The Next Generation 1: Without a Trace
by S-Drama-Queen-17
Summary: COMPLETE Elizabeth Potter was just a normal kid with a normal life. Then she find out her father's name and everything changes. She is sent to Hogwarts, where the disappearance of students and the uprising of the next generatio
1. The End of the Beginning

centerChapter 1 - The End of the Beginning/center  
  
It was a cold evening at the end of October. Trees swayed in the wind that rattled the windows on the street. And Harry Potter appeared before his house, happy to be able to see his wife, Luna, and daughter, Elizabeth, again. It had been a long day filling out reports on current Death Eaters who had gone uncounted for in the past few months, and what he deserved was a nice, hearty welcome from his family.  
  
But it never came. As he closed the door behind him, he wondered at the silence. Luna always came to greet him, her long, blonde, curly hair flowing as she carried Elizabeth around. But no sound was to be heard. Except a faint wailing, somewhere in the house.  
  
He dropped his bag and moved quickly, trying to find the source of the sound. It grew clearer as he neared his daughter's room. He threw the door open to reveal a horrible sight.  
  
Luna, his Luna, lay prostrate on the ground. She was dead.  
  
"No. No, no, no!" he yelled at the night. Throwing himself on the ground, he buried his face in his hands and sobbed for the first time in as long as he could remember. Then he looked up at Elizabeth, who was wailing for her mother. She might continue to yell until her eyes and her mother's, almost indistinguishable from each other, met, and Luna's eyes were closed forever.  
  
He saw a slip of paper crushed in Luna's left hand. Carefully, he opened it up. Three words stood out at him.  
  
YOU'RE NEXT, POTTER.  
  
And Harry knew who had done it. He couldn't believe.all for revenge.  
  
Elizabeth gave a painful cry and looked at her father, who picked her up and cradled her in his arms. He had to get her out of danger. And he could never look at her again without thinking of his young wife, of her death. He-he had to give her up.  
  
Harry shot out the door, not looking back.  
  
"Tonks, you understand what I have to do, don't you?"  
  
A fairly young woman with pink-tinted hair shook her head. "No, but you have to do it anyway."  
  
"Tell Ron and Hermione. Make sure they know."  
  
"Don't worry, I will, Harry."  
  
"Thanks, Tonks. I knew I could count on you. I'll-I'll see you around, Tonks."  
  
"Wotcher, Harry," Tonks replied sadly, watching Harry leave with his baby daughter. So much destruction.  
  
center* * */center  
  
"Yes, yes, we'll keep her name Elizabeth Potter. Elizabeth Smith sounds so.repetitive, somehow."  
  
The orphanage lady sighed in relief. She was beginning to think that no one would want a child who was forced to keep her last name. But it had been that sad young man's only request before he left the girl at the orphanage.  
  
The Smiths were overjoyed. A second baby girl to call their own! And their little Emma would have someone her own age to play with. It was perfect.  
  
They reached the house shortly afterwards, little Elizabeth in Mrs. Smith's arms. "This is your new home, Elizabeth. You weren't originally ours, but you were adopted and we love you very much."  
  
And so, through the years, Elizabeth Potter grew (at a very slow rate). She was so small that the Smiths decided the name Elizabeth to be too big for such a little girl, and instead call her Liz. Liz was reminded everyday that she was adopted and still loved.  
  
Soon came the day when Liz was old enough to ask, "What happened to my real mummy and daddy? You know, the first ones?"  
  
And Mrs. Smith looked, bewildered, at Mr. Smith, who looked back at her, just as confused. And Mrs. Smith knelt down to her adopted daughter's level and said, "Well, honey, we don't know."  
  
As Liz and Emma grew, the two became the best of friends. Liz would never go anywhere unless Emma was invited, and Emma never minded sharing anything with Liz, whether it be dessert or toys or anything else.  
  
One day, when both the girls were about eleven, they were playing dolls when a Itap, tap, tap/I sound caught their ears.  
  
"What's that, Liz?"  
  
"I don't know, Emma."  
  
The sisters stood up and heard the noise again: Itap, tap, tap./I  
  
"It's coming from the window."  
  
The two of them crept to the window to see a tawny, majestic-looking owl pecking at the window. It had a letter attached to its leg.  
  
Liz gasped.  
  
"MUM!" Emma yelled. "MUM, THERE'S AN OWL AT THE WINDOW!"  
  
Mrs. Smith hurried in. "What is it, sweetie?"  
  
"There's a big ugly owl at the window, Mum."  
  
"It's not ugly, Emma, it's handsome," Liz said. Neither Emma nor Mrs. Smith paid any attention as the latter cautiously drew the window open and let the bird in. It gave a melancholy hoot, dropped the letter, and perched itself on the coffee table. Emma snatched the letter up.  
  
"Look, Liz, it's to you!" Emma said, showing Liz the address.  
  
Miss Elizabeth Potter The Living Room 111 Amulet Drive London, England  
  
"How would they know I'm in the living room? And who sends letters with owls, anyway?" Liz said, ever the practical one. She flipped the envelope over to find the image of a lion, a badger, a raven, and a snake curling themselves around a letter H. This she shared with Emma.  
  
"Open it!" Emma urged impatiently.  
  
Liz obliged and withdrew the letter. It was on a rough sort of parchment.  
  
Dear Miss Potter,  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed is a supply list. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. Have a pleasant day.  
  
Minerva McGonagall  
  
Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
  
"Is this some sort of joke?" Liz said softly.  
  
"It's got to be," Mrs. Smith said. Emma nodded.  
  
"If it is, it's an elaborate one," Liz said.  
  
"But.a school with witchcraft and wizardry? Full of people who send letters with birds? Sounds downright fishy to me," Emma declared.  
  
"It's a prank, honey. Do you know anyone who doesn't like you and owns an owl?" Mrs. Smith inquired, looking worriedly at her adopted daughter.  
  
Before Liz could answer, the doorbell rang. Liz ran to answer it, and she stopped to face a tall old woman dressed in a glittery green cape and a tall pointy hat.  
  
"Good afternoon, Elizabeth," she said.  
  
"Uh.uh.Mum? Mum! MUM!"  
  
Mrs. Smith came running. "What is it, sweetie-oh, pardon me, who are you?"  
  
"My name is Minerva McGonagall. May I see that?" she asked of a petrified Liz, who was still clutching the letter in her hand. The woman looked it over and nodded. "Everything seems to be in order. I suppose I really must explain, mustn't I?"  
  
"Yes," Mrs. Smith replied faintly. "Yes, you must."  
  
"All right. Years ago.oh, wait, you don't know.Elizabeth is a witch. She can do magic."  
  
"Um, excuse me, ma'am, but you must have the wrong Elizabeth Potter. I can't be a witch."  
  
"Oh, but you can. Your father was one of the most famous wizards ever. And haven't you ever made anything happen without meaning to? Your father accidentally set a boa constrictor at a zoo loose once."  
  
Liz thought, and then nodded slowly. There were too many incidents to count where she hadn't had an explanation for what had happened.  
  
"You see? Now, years ago, there was a Dark wizard. Dark. Evil. However you'd like. His name was Voldemort, and he tried to kill your father as a baby, but he couldn't. The spell rebounded on Voldemort, who was stripped of his powers. To make a long story short, Voldemort eventually regained his body, but was destroyed by your father. And your father's name is celebrated, even today, by the entire wizarding world. But there is more to the story.  
  
"Your father got married to your mother, a wonderful young lady named Luna Lovegood. She looked almost precisely like you, in fact." McGonagall went silent for a moment, and Liz thought she was remembering something. "Then, as far as anyone knows, your father came home one day to find Luna.dead. His beautiful wife was gone. All he had left was you, and he gave you to the orphanage, only requesting that you should keep his surname. I believe he was then followed. Stalked, if you will, most likely by his wife's murderer. After a few months in hiding, he completely disappeared and was presumed dead. It remains my personal belief that his stalker caught up with him." McGonagall bowed her head.  
  
Liz blinked. How, how could this all be true?  
  
"So you were adopted into a very loving family-" (here Mrs. Smith beamed) "- and raised as a Muggle."  
  
"Muggle?" Liz asked.  
  
"Non-magic person. So, yes, that's it. Any questions?"  
  
Mrs. Smith opened her mouth, but Liz spoke first.  
  
"One. What was my father's name?"  
  
"Harry," McGonagall replied. "Harry Potter." 


	2. Diagon Alley

centerChapter 2 - Diagon Alley/center  
  
After McGonagall had answered all the questions, she told them that a wizarding family had agreed to take Liz shopping for school supplies.  
  
"And they have a son about your age, so you won't be lonely. Now I must go. Oh, and here are your tickets for the Hogwarts Express. The Weasleys will be here at about eleven in the morning Tuesday of next week to pick you up. Goodbye!" And she was out the door.  
  
Liz sank slowly onto the sofa. This was completely overwhelming. The large amounts of information in such a short amount of time made her head ache. She needed to talk to someone. She needed to talk to Emma.  
  
Emma had long since gone up to her room, soon after Liz had learned her real father's name. Liz climbed the stairs two at a time up to her sister's room. "Emma? Oh, there you are!" Emma was on her bed, arms folded, legs crossed, looking for all the world like she was trying to roll herself into a little ball. "This is insane, Emma. I've read about legends of magic and everything, but there's never been actual proof. This is so-Emma? Are you all right?"  
  
Emma's face was pursed up sourly. At Liz's words, she sucked in her cheeks. "Yes. Perfectly fine. Go away."  
  
"W-why, Emma?"  
  
"Because you're strange. You're the daughter of some lunatic who saved magic. Well, I wish he would have lost and magic would have been over. Then you wouldn't be a freak."  
  
"I'm not a-"  
  
"You're going to a boarding school to learn magic. You're a freak."  
  
Life had dealt a blow the tiny eleven-year-old couldn't bear. Because her parents were magic, because she was magic, she had lost her best friend. Liz ran to her room in tears.  
  
For the next week, Liz stayed in her room. She only came out to bring her meals upstairs. Mr. and Mrs. Smith had congratulated her repeatedly, but none of that mattered. She had lost her best friend; that was all that mattered.  
  
On Tuesday at around eleven, the doorbell rang. Liz ran to answer it. Beyond it, she found a tall red-haired man, a woman with big brown bushy hair and a knowledgeable air about her, a tall girl who looked like the woman, and a tall boy who resembled the man.  
  
"Hello," said the man. "We're the Weasleys. And you must be Liz."  
  
"Yes, I am," Liz replied, grinning for the first time in days. "Come in."  
  
"Oh, Ron, she does look like Luna," the woman said, stepping across the threshold.  
  
"You knew my mother?"  
  
"Yes, but we knew your father better. He was our best friend at school."  
  
There was an awkward silence, in which all three children looked at the adult Weasleys, who seemed to be restraining tears.  
  
"Well!" Mrs. Weasley said brightly after a few seconds. "We haven't had proper introductions yet. I'm Hermione Weasley, this is my husband Ron Weasley, and these are our children, Jessica and Michael. Michael is going to be a first-year just like you."  
  
"'Lo," the boy said. Liz grinned.  
  
"McGonagall explained everything that needed to be explained, correct?" Mr. Weasley asked.  
  
"Yes. She told me about the four Houses of Hogwarts, Quidditch, the point system, a couple of means of transportation.just about everything."  
  
"And you remember it all?" Mr. Weasley said, unbelievingly. His wife beamed from behind him at Liz, who nodded.  
  
"Well then, I wonder if we could possibly borrow your fireplace," Mr. Weasley asked.  
  
"I'll have to ask my mum," Liz said. "Are we going to Diagon Alley?"  
  
"Yes," Mrs. Weasley told her. Liz ran off and returned a few seconds later with her mother's acceptance.  
  
Jessica took out a bag of Floo powder and tossed some into the fire. The flames turned a glittery green. She stepped in, yelled, "Diagon Alley!" and disappeared.  
  
"Go on, Liz. Michael will come right after you," Mrs. Weasley said.  
  
Liz nodded, took a deep breath, stepped in, and echoed Jessica. The green flames whirled around her, and she stepped out as they stopped. Jessica was waiting for her.  
  
"Was that fun?" she asked.  
  
"Yeah, it was!" Liz responded, surprised with herself. "Will we do it again?"  
  
"Later. Here comes Michael."  
  
Michael appeared, his red hair blackened with soot. "Wicked!" he promptly exclaimed, hopping out. "I love using Floo powder!"  
  
"I don't know, it gives me a headache," Jessica said. "Liz liked it, though."  
  
"It was fun," Liz grinned.  
  
"You think so?" Michael asked her. "Finally, someone who agrees with me!"  
  
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came presently, and after the three females had shaken out their hair, the family plus Liz headed to the streets to look for a store.  
  
"Where first?" Michael asked.  
  
"Gringotts, son," Mr. Weasley answered. "We need money to buy things."  
  
"I know that," Michael said, rolling his eyes secretly to Liz. "Parents," he muttered. Liz giggled.  
  
"Here we are," Mrs. Weasley said as they stood before a snow-white building that loomed above all the other shops. Michael led Liz inside.  
  
"Wow," she said in awe. It was just like at a Muggle bank, but with strange creatures for tellers.  
  
"They're goblins," Jessica said, seeing the look on Liz's face. "They run Gringotts."  
  
"Aren't they awesome?" Michael said.  
  
"We've come to take some money from the Weasley safe and Elizabeth Potter's safe," Mr. Weasley said to one of the goblins, who asked for keys.  
  
"I have a safe?" Liz asked. "McGonagall forgot to mention that."  
  
"But she did give us your key," Mrs. Weasley said. Mr. Weasley beckoned to the rest of the family to follow a goblin to the safes.  
  
The path to the safes was dark and cold, and the ride there (in a rickety old cart that Liz figured had been there since before her father's school day) was bumpy and unnerving. Liz clutched the side while Michael did the same. Both of them pitched forward when the cart stopped abruptly.  
  
"Here we are," the goblin said, hopping nimbly out of the cart. "The Weasley vault."  
  
Mr. Weasley handed him the key, which he used to open the vault. Inside were mounds of coins, gold, silver, and bronze. Liz's jaw dropped in amazement.  
  
"Dad's job pays pretty good," Michael told her. "He's pretty important in the Ministry. And Mum's a teacher. Doesn't hurt."  
  
"Does she teach at Hogwarts?" Liz asked in surprise.  
  
"Yes. She teaches Transfiguration."  
  
Mrs. Weasley gathered some of the money up and stuffed it into her bag. "All right, then. Off to Elizabeth's vault."  
  
Liz was glad when the cart finally stopped at her vault. As the goblin unlocked it, Mr. Weasley told her quietly, "If you thought our vault was full, wait until you see yours."  
  
"But I don't-oh, my gosh!" Heaps and heaps of coins stretched toward the ceiling. Liz was afraid to take any coins from the bottom for fear the rest might come crashing down around them.  
  
"How did I get so much?" Liz asked in amazement, stepping inside.  
  
"Your father was an Auror. A Dark wizard catcher. Paid pretty well, but considering he risked his life and lost it, well, not enough to compensate for that," Mrs. Weasley said sadly.  
  
Liz's joy wilted at the thought of her father being paid to die in the end. This was blood money.  
  
"Are you going to take some or not?" the goblin asked impatiently. Liz took a bunch of coins and stuffed them hurriedly into her bag.  
  
After another jostling ride in the cart, the Weasleys led Liz out of the bank.  
  
"Where to?" Jessica asked, once they were in the bright outdoors. Michael suggested they buy their wands at Ollivander's, so everyone headed to the wand shop.  
  
Michael opened the door, and a hovering bell rang to signify their arrival. From behind cases of shelves full of long, thin boxes, a tiny old man appeared. He took out a tape measurer and began to measure Michael.  
  
"Welcome, welcome, welcome," he said, letting the tape measurer continue on its own. "Let's get right down to business, now, shall we. Here, try this one out," he told Michael, handing him a wand while the tape measurer moved on to Liz. Michael gave it a wave, but nothing happened. Mr. Ollivander handed him another, but took it away almost instantly. "Never fear. Try this." This one worked. As Michael waved it around, tiny sparks flew from the end of it.  
  
"Delightful! Simply delightful. Now for you," he said to Liz, snapping up the tape measurer in mid-measure and handing her a wand. She had barely moved it when another box, off the top of one of the shelves, floated down, landed in her other hand, and opened itself.  
  
Mr. Ollivander's eyes nearly burst out of his eye sockets. "Astounding!" he said breathlessly. "I've never seen that happen before. Try it out, then."  
  
Liz picked it up and instantly felt a rush of heat course through her body. At the first movement, the wand scattered a shower of sparks upon the floor.  
  
"Amazing," Mr. Ollivander breathed.  
  
Mrs. Weasley and Liz paid for the wands, and they left Mr. Ollivander to himself, still muttering fervently about astounding wands.  
  
"Oh! Oh, Mum, may I please have an owl?" Michael asked suddenly, pointing to Eeylop's Owl Emporium.  
  
"Well, all right. I suppose it would be useful," Mrs. Weasley said. "Liz, would you like one, too?"  
  
"I can buy it," Liz said.  
  
"Come on, let's go!" Michael exclaimed, saving his mother and Liz the trouble of haggling over who would buy the bird.  
  
Inside the shop, it smelled of owl droppings and cage cleaner. Liz looked around at all the owls and spotted the perfect one instantly. It was tiny and snow-white with tiny black eyes. It gave a soft hoot as Liz approached. She took the cage off its hanger, cooing softly, and asked the harassed- looking wizard whether it was a boy or a girl.  
  
"Girl," he replied, trying to check out three customers at once.  
  
"Luna," Liz said to the owl. "Your name is Luna."  
  
After Michael found his perfect owl, a magnificent tawny he called George (Liz got the gist that it was one of his uncles' names), they shopped around. They had to get cauldrons, uniforms, book, crystal phials, a telescope for each, brass scales.and that was only Michael and Liz. Jessica, who would be starting her third year at Hogwarts, was taking new classes, and her robes were getting short on her. So it was well into the afternoon when they finished their shopping.  
  
Liz and Michael had shared an ice cream earlier while Jessica searched for her new books. Then they found a fireplace to travel back in and returned to Liz's house.  
  
"That was so much fun," Liz said.  
  
"I know. Wicked!" Michael agreed.  
  
"Will you take me next year?" she asked excitedly.  
  
"Absolutely. Now, McGonagall gave you your train tickets," Mr. Weasley said. "We'll try to find you there, but I can't make any promises. It gets a bit hectic."  
  
Liz nodded as Mrs. Smith entered the room. "Thank you for taking Liz shopping," she said.  
  
"Oh, no problem," Mr. Weasley said. "She and Michael have become fast friends."  
  
Both Liz and Michael beamed and nodded.  
  
"Well, we'll see you on September first. Goodbye," Mr. Weasley said. Michael waved as they exited through the front door and Liz waved back, grinning as she thought of going to school.  
  
Her thoughts were interrupted when Mrs. Smith inquired, "Why have you got an owl?" 


	3. Arrival on the Hogwarts Express

centerChapter 3 - Arrival on the Hogwarts Express/center  
  
Liz spent the rest of her time at home reading her books. She had bought a few extras, about a thousand pages each, for some light reading. Three of the four mentioned her father, and one of those mentioned Luna and her. She soon learned to skip over those chapters, as they caused her heart to ache with nonexistent memories.  
  
Emma was being intolerable. She would invite friends over and lead them up and down the hallway, talking loudly while Liz was trying to read. Liz seethed with suppressed rage.  
  
On September 1, Mrs. Smith took Liz to King's Cross Station. Emma had screamed bloody murder when Mr. Smith had asked her to come, so he stayed home with her. The only thing that kept Liz from being miserable was the prospect of learning how to do actual magic.  
  
"Goodbye, honey. We love you," Mrs. Smith said. "Would you like to come home for Christmas?"  
  
"N-not really, Mum. See you next summer."  
  
Mrs. Smith waved and left. Taking out her train ticket, Liz pulled her baggage cart along. But soon she stopped short.  
  
"Platform 9 and ¾?" she exclaimed. That couldn't be possible. She looked wildly around for the Weasleys, who were not to be seen. How was she to find the train?  
  
"Mummy, Mummy, tell me how to get onto the platform again!" a small voice pleaded somewhere. Liz's head shot up.  
  
"Yes, Mummy, tell me too!" an identical voice echoed.  
  
"Now, Rachel's the one who has to get onto the train," an older, more motherly voice told the others, and Liz caught sight of a baggage cart-with an owl on top!  
  
"Um, excuse me? Ma'am?" Liz began to shout, dodging irate train goers to find the woman who would know how to get onto the platform. She made a mad dash for the retreating family and the cart took on a momentum of its own so that when Liz finally reached the other cart, both she and her cart collided with the cart and its owner. In a few seconds and a flurry of feathers, Liz ended up with both carts on top of her and a blossoming bruise on her backside.  
  
"I am so sorry!" a girl with long brown hair apologized, clapping her hands to her mouth.  
  
"My.fault." Liz choked, trying to breathe.  
  
The girl and her mother heaved the carts off Liz's small figure, and the three of them plus two identical little girls gathered up all their belongings. Both owls hooted angrily.  
  
"I'm Liz Potter," Liz finally said, checking her wand to make sure it had not snapped on impact.  
  
"Really?" the other girl asked. Liz found the blood rushing up to her cheeks as they all looked at her, impressed.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I'm Rachel. Rachel Yates," the girl said. "This is my mum, and these are my little sisters, Carla and Theresa."  
  
"Pleased to meet you," the twins squeaked.  
  
"You too," Liz laughed. "Uh.er.could you tell me how to get onto the platform? I'm new here."  
  
"Oh, Rachel is too," Mrs. Yates said. "But I remember it back in my day. You run at the barrier between platforms nine and ten."  
  
"At it?" Somehow, Liz thought, she must have heard her wrong. That could be dangerous, not to mention embarrassing.  
  
"Yes, at it. You'll just slip through. Just don't be nervous or you might crash into it."  
  
II might crash into it anyway,/I Liz found herself thinking. Aloud, she said, "Well, all right, then."  
  
Rachel volunteered to go first, and Liz had time to think that, with her superior first-aid knowledge, she could bandage up Rachel's head injury. Then, before Liz's very eyes, just as it seemed Rachel would collide with the barrier, she vanished.  
  
"Good, good. Hurry on now, Liz, or you'll miss the train," Mrs. Yates encouraged. The twins grinned.  
  
Liz took a deep breath, steadied her wobbly cart, and took off at a slight jog. It was getting nearer, it was a foot away, an inch, it was-  
  
Gone.  
  
Liz opened her eyes, taking in the sight. Rachel stood waiting for her, and behind her stood a magnificent scarlet steam engine. The words HOGWARTS EXPRESS had been emblazoned on it in gold.  
  
"You made it!" Rachel said as Mrs. Yates and the twins appeared behind them.  
  
"Yeah," Liz said shakily.  
  
"Liz! Liz, over here!" a voice called out. Liz turned to see Michael rushing at her, followed closely by Jessica and his parents.  
  
"Hurry, or you'll miss the train!" Mr. Weasley said.  
  
The three of them threw their trunks on board and got on as the train started to puff forward. "Goodbye, Rachel!" Mrs. Yates called, the twins waving enthusiastically by her side.  
  
"Bye, Michael, Jessica! See you, Liz!" Mr. Weasley called, for Mrs. Weasley had hopped aboard with them. Liz wondered momentarily what she was doing and then remembered that she taught Transfiguration at Hogwarts. Mr. Weasley waved once more before the train rounded the bend and the group was forced to shut the door.  
  
"Well!" Mrs. Weasley said. "I'm going to go find somewhere to sit and you should too." She waved goodbye and headed for a different carriage.  
  
"Oh, er, Michael Weasley, Rachel Yates," Liz feebly attempted to introduce the two. Rachel grinned and Michael ran his hand through his hair. "Let's get a compartment!" Liz reminded them, and the three set off.  
  
They finally found an empty one and sat down. "I am so nervous," Rachel said. "I'm glad I met some people, though."  
  
"Me too," Michael agreed. There was silence for a few seconds. "How about we talk about our families?"  
  
"All right," Rachel agreed. "I have my mom and dad and two little twin sisters, Carla and Theresa. They're nine."  
  
"I have an older sister, Jessica. She probably went to go find her friends. She's starting third year. My mom teaches Transfiguration at Hogwarts-"  
  
"Oh, so that's why she's on the train?" Rachel said.  
  
"Yeah. My dad works at the Ministry. And I have a bunch of uncles and an aunt. My uncle Bill died years ago, but I still have Uncles Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, and Aunt Ginny."  
  
"Wait! Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?" Rachel said.  
  
"My uncles, Fred and George," Michael answered. "They run it."  
  
Liz gave them both a blank look. They could have been speaking in code for all she understood.  
  
"It's a joke store in Hogsmeade," Rachel explained.  
  
"Oh, yes, McGonagall told me about that."  
  
Their conversation was interrupted when the compartment door slid open and a girl with long, silky ebony hair stepped in. She looked at them and a forbidding smile spread across her lips.  
  
"Well, well, well. Look what we have here."  
  
Liz looked at Michael and Rachel. Who was this girl?  
  
"I'm Winnie Chen," the girl said, as if she had read Liz's mind. "Pure- blood. And I know who you are. You've been described in way too many articles and books and everything for me not to, Elizabeth Potter."  
  
"I prefer Liz," Liz said coolly.  
  
"Well, I prefer not to talk to you at all," Winnie retorted. "You're not a pureblood. You aren't either," she added, addressing Michael, who stood up.  
  
"Yeah?" he said, eyes flashing. "So?"  
  
"So you're not good enough to be in Slytherin, Michael Weasley."  
  
"You mean bad enough," Rachel put in angrily. "All the Slytherins are just plain evil. Everyone knows that."  
  
"We're not evil, we're ambitious," Winnie said, puffing her chest out proudly.  
  
"Besides, you're not a Slytherin yet anyway," Liz said.  
  
"But I will be. Both my parents were Slytherins, and their parents, and their parents, and their parents.it goes on forever. So there's no chance I won't."  
  
"Didn't you say you preferred not to talk to me?" Liz reminded her. Winnie gave her a scathing look and stomped out.  
  
"You know, I don't doubt she will be in Slytherin," Michael grumbled.  
  
"Me neither," Rachel and Liz agreed simultaneously.  
  
The rest of the ride to Hogwarts was spent comparing knowledge of the wizarding world. All three of them seemed to be tied in this area: Rachel and Michael had grown up with at least one magic parent (Rachel's dad was a Muggle), and Liz had absorbed plenty of facts from McGonagall and her books. Soon a fifth-year prefect came by and told them they were nearing Hogwarts and they'd best put on their robes. Michael left while the girls changed and they did the same for him.  
  
The train jerked to a halt, and the three of them followed the stream of students out the doors of the train. The older ones climbed into carts that moved on their own; once they were full, they rattled off as if invisible horses were pulling them. But a booming voice bellowed over the din of the crowd, "Firs' years! Firs' years this way! Firs' years over here!"  
  
Liz, Rachel, and Michael turned to see a giant man with scraggly white hair and a white beard beckoning to all the new students.  
  
"He's a giant," Rachel squeaked.  
  
"No, he's not," Liz said. "Is he?"  
  
"No, my mum and dad told me about him!" Michael told them. "His name is-"  
  
"Hagrid!" a voice called. "There are two more boats left!"  
  
"Good, Chris. I'll go with these two girls-" (here the giant man pointed to Winnie Chen and one of her equally evil-looking friends, who moaned) "-and you go with these three." He gestured to Liz, Rachel, and Michael, who were rooted to the spot.  
  
"Hi, I'm Chris. Chris Scott," the owner of the voice said to them as Hagrid set sail. "Who're you?"  
  
"Rachel Yates."  
  
"Michael Weasley."  
  
"Elizabeth Potter. Liz for short."  
  
"You're Elizabeth Potter?" the boy asked in amazement. "Wow!"  
  
"Are you a first-year?" Michael asked as they climbed into the boat.  
  
"No," Chris responded, pushing the boat off the shore. "I'm a Squib."  
  
"Yes, McGonagall told me about Squibs!" Liz said. "So why are you here?"  
  
"Well, my parents were so ashamed of me being a Squib, so they sent me to help Hagrid with game keeping duties when I was eight, three years ago. And they disowned me."  
  
"Disowned you?" Liz and Rachel chorused, horrified.  
  
"Just for you being a Squib?" Michael said incredulously.  
  
"They were ashamed," Chris repeated a bit sadly.  
  
"That's cruel," Liz said.  
  
"Yeah, well, I get to be here. I consider myself lucky."  
  
Liz wouldn't have agreed, but she kept her mouth shut.  
  
"So you know my mum?" Michael inquired quickly, aiming for a change of subject.  
  
"Weasley? Professor Weasley? Yes, I do. You're her son? Where do you get your red hair?" Chris inquired.  
  
"Yes, I am her son, and I get my red hair from my dad," Michael replied, grinning.  
  
"That's neat," Chris said. "And you're Eli-Liz Potter."  
  
Liz nodded. "That's me."  
  
"Wait until Hagrid find out who you are! He's always talking about your father."  
  
"He knew him?"  
  
"Oh, yes, definitely. Hagrid was gamekeeper while he was in school."  
  
"We're here!" Rachel announced.  
  
The four of them looked up. "Wow," Liz breathed. The many towers and turrets loomed above their heads. All the rest of the boats had been beached and all their passengers had gone ashore.  
  
"Good luck," Chris called as the three of them went through the giant open door and disappeared. 


	4. Sorting

centerChapter 4 - Sorting/center  
  
"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor Weasley, ushering the remaining first- years inside.  
  
"'Lo, Mum," Michael said.  
  
"Hi, honey. All right! In a few minutes, I will take you to the Great Hall, where you are to be Sorted. All you must do is try on the Sorting Hat, and it will place you in one of the four Houses: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Each has its admirable traits, so it really doesn't matter where you are placed." Liz thought she saw Michael's mother grimace slightly.  
  
A fifth-year prefect peeked her head into the waiting room. "We're ready for them."  
  
"All right. Thank you. Follow me, children."  
  
All the nervous kids followed her reluctantly. Liz felt her stomach drop to her knees. How could a hat tell which House she should be in?  
  
The Great Hall was gargantuan, and the ceiling was an echo of the night sky. Four tables, one for each House, were filled with students from first year to seventh year, and each student was looking at them. Liz felt Rachel shiver beside her. In the middle of the front, right underneath the platform where the High Table stood, was a stool, and on the stool stood a pointy hat. Liz's doubts about the Sorting increased tenfold.  
  
Then the brim ripped open and the hat began to sing.  
  
"Hello. I am the Sorting Hat. So good to meet you here. I'd ask you all to listen up and lend this hat an ear. There are four Houses and I'll try to list them one by one. Whichever one you're placed in, I'll assure you it's much fun. The Gryffindors are strong and brave and chivalrous and true. The Hufflepuffs, they are great friends. They'll help you if you're blue. The Ravenclaws are full of wit. Their assets are their brains. The Slytherins are cunning. They'll take tears and sweat and pain. So now you know about each House. Attention has been paid. So try me on, I'll pick your place, so just don't be afraid!"  
  
The Great Hall exploded in applause. Professor Weasley clapped her hands and a piece of parchment appeared there. She began to read off of it.  
  
"Alicea, Patrick!"  
  
A short boy with sandy blonde hair raced up.  
  
"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted to the waiting crowd. Patrick raced to the Hufflepuff table.  
  
The next three became the first new Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Slytherin, respectively: Andrew Altamirano, Desiree Armstrong, and Andrew Bawfield. After Russell Benedetto became a Hufflepuff and Patsy Casarez became a Slytherin, Professor Weasley called, "Chen, Winnie!" Winnie smiled smugly as she placed the hat on her head. It screamed out, "SLYTHERIN!" almost immediately.  
  
"Told you," she hissed at Liz as she made her way to the Slytherin table.  
  
There was one more C, two D's, two E's, an F, and a G. Then a boy named David Hannigan was Sorted into Hufflepuff, and Liz thought vaguely that he was kind of cute. She also noticed that she was hungry.  
  
The list dwindled past the L's. Alberta Monroe and Thomas Needham were Sorted into Gryffindor. Ida Oakley became a Ravenclaw. John Peterson was another Gryffindor.  
  
"Potter, Elizabeth!"  
  
A sort of buzz went through the Great Hall. All eyes turned to Liz as she nervously made her way up to the Sorting Hat. It barely touched her head before it said, "GRYFFINDOR!" to the crowd. A wave of relief washed over Liz as she hurried to the Gryffindor table.  
  
"Santoyo, Louise!"  
  
"SLYTHERIN!"  
  
"Seiler, Anne!"  
  
"SLYTHERIN!"  
  
"Sorenson, Robert!"  
  
"GRYFFINDOR!"  
  
"Sowder, Florence!"  
  
"HUFFLEPUFF!"  
  
"Steward, Martin!"  
  
"SLYTHERIN!"  
  
"Taw, Cathy!"  
  
"RAVENCLAW!"  
  
Liz tried to keep track of how many children went into each House, but she was too giddy with relief on being Sorted into Gryffindor. Her father had been in Gryffindor, so McGonagall said. Her other favorite choice had been Ravenclaw, since that had been her mother's House and she wasn't afraid to admit she was smart.  
  
After "Valentine, Arlene!" and "Vinson, Glenda!" had been Sorted, "Weasley, Michael!" was called. Liz crossed her fingers and shut her eyes, hoping to hear-  
  
"GRYFFINDOR!"  
  
Liz cheered with the rest of them as Michael took a seat by her.  
  
"Whitesell, Kristine!"  
  
"RAVENCLAW!"  
  
"Whitmer, Jimmy!"  
  
"SLYTHERIN!"  
  
"Yates, Rachel!"  
  
Now both Liz and Michael crossed their fingers and hoped for the best. Rachel hesitantly placed the Sorting Hat on her head and crossed her fingers, too.  
  
"GRYFFINDOR!"  
  
Rachel whooped and sat next to Michael.  
  
Professor Weasley clapped her hands and the parchment disappeared. Then she went to collect the stool and hat, which bowed to the students before it was carried out of the Hall.  
  
McGonagall clapped her hands. The plates before them filled with food. "Awesome!" Michael cried out, immediately grabbing three chicken drumsticks at once.  
  
The rest of the first-year Gryffindors introduced themselves. Desiree Armstrong was a pretty brunette girl who was always perky. Keith Dircks was a sullen-faced boy who tried to perk up a big when he learned who Liz was. Bettie Hess smiled patronizingly and bobbed her black curly hair every time she said something. Alberta Monroe had long, stringy brown hair and a long face to match. Thomas Needham had messy brown hair and glasses, and he snorted when he laughed. John Peterson was sitting on the other side of Liz and he smiled every time she spoke to him. Robert Sorenson was totally obsessed with Quidditch and kept going over players and statistics, and lamenting about the fact that first-years couldn't be on the House team. John told Liz in secret that Robert was really awful at Quidditch.  
  
"First-years follow me!" a prefect called when the meal was over. "First- year Gryffindors, this way please!"  
  
The ten of them followed her through the maze of the castle to a portrait of a lady who wasn't exactly on the small side. The canvas was ripped and torn, as if the painting had been there for a very long time.  
  
"Password?" the lady asked.  
  
"Kneazle knees," the prefect answered. The painting swung forward to reveal a cozy-looking common room with a fire crackling in the fireplace.  
  
"Girls to the left, boys to the right. Oh, and welcome to Hogwarts," the prefect said. Liz and Rachel waved goodbye to Michael and headed left with Alberta, Bettie, and Desiree to the dorms.  
  
"If you have owls, they are up in the Owlery!" the prefect called after them.  
  
Desiree opened the door, and they all saw their new home. Five beds lined the walls, and a trunk was on the end of each bed. Each bed had a canopy. Liz grinned and flopped down on her new canopy bed. She was where she belonged. She was home. 


	5. Flying for Gryffindor

centerChapter 5 - Flying for Gryffindor/center  
  
Liz woke up to the sunlight streaming through the window into her face. She had forgotten to close the hangings on her bed. She got up, changed, and left the dorm full of the four other girls sleeping. As she climbed through the portrait hole, the Fat Lady gave a royal wave to her, and she waved back. Then she made her way to the Great Hall.  
  
There weren't many people there, but Liz did see Winnie Chen and one of her friends, another Slytherin girl by the name of Patsy Casarez. Both of them leered at her. Trying to ignore them, Liz picked up a piece of toast and began breakfast.  
  
It was a while before Rachel came down, and even longer before Michael followed. The three of them ate breakfast, speculating over what classes would be like.  
  
"Here are your schedules, first-years," Professor Weasley said, handing out papers to all the first-years that weren't still asleep. Michael looked at it and groaned.  
  
"What?" Rachel inquired.  
  
"There's too many classes," he moaned.  
  
Throughout their first week, Liz began to think the same thing. Charms was taught by a man twice as small as Liz named Professor Flitwick. He had a squeaky little voice and an awfully large nose, and he had to stand on a stack of books while he taught. Professor Longbottom was their Herbology teacher, and he had a round face and a good nature. He looked doleful, however, when he called out Liz's name on the roster on the first day. Liz's least favorite class was History of Magic, their only class taught by a ghost. Professor Binns was boring and had a monotonous voice that could put even Liz, who had a knack for paying attention, asleep. Transfiguration was a lot of fun, especially with Professor Weasley teaching. Liz was the only one to turn her toothpick into a needle. Defense Against the Dark Arts was great, but Professor Theseus Garb wasn't. He went on and on about his accomplishments, his strength, his bravery, and his (arguable) good looks. A few of the girls agreed with him, but Rachel and Liz made faces every time Desiree sighed loudly.  
  
Liz didn't like History of Magic because it was boring, but she hated Potions for a whole different reason. Professor Snape, with his dried and crackly white hair and horribly mean disposition, was the worst teacher Liz ever had. He sneered at them all, but he especially hated Liz for absolutely no reason at all. He took points off of her potion because the gas it was emitting was supposed to be shimmering silver, not shining silver. Liz didn't argue. She didn't want to give him a reason to be mean.  
  
By the end of the week, Liz, Rachel, and Michael were worn out. On Saturday, Liz received a letter at breakfast from Chris. She opened it excitedly.  
  
Dear Liz, Rachel, and Michael, How was your first week at school? I hope it was great. I had a good week. Mostly I watched Hagrid teach the Care of Magical Creatures classes. If you'd like, you could come down to visit us and really meet Hagrid today. I'll be waiting!  
  
Chris  
  
"Wanna go?" Liz asked them. Michael nodded at once and Rachel consented eventually. So thy finished breakfast and set off across the grounds to Hagrid's cabin.  
  
Upon arrival, Liz knocked on the door. Chris threw it open and grinned. "Hi!" he said. "Come on in, come on in! Hagrid, my friends are here!"  
  
The sound of thunderous footfalls reached them before Hagrid did. "Good, Chris. Hello, kids. I'm Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys and Grounds here at Hogwarts. I also teach Care of Magical Creatures."  
  
"I'm Michael."  
  
"I'm Rachel."  
  
"I'm Liz."  
  
Hagrid's eyes widened when they fell on Liz. "Golly!" he cried, clutching at his heart. "It's.it's.blimey, I never thought.Elizabeth Potter! Chris, you never said anything about meeting her!"  
  
"Must have slipped my mind," Chris said simply. Liz felt an instant rush of gratitude, though she didn't know why.  
  
"D'you know my mum?" Michael asked hopefully.  
  
"Are you a Weasley? Yeah, your mum and your dad," Hagrid answered, sitting down.  
  
The conversation turned to the week's events. Liz's, Rachel's, and Michael's accounts were very similar to each other. Mostly, they contained complaints about Snape, Binns, or Garb. So they found themselves listening to Chris' week.  
  
"And then, last night, a man knocked on the door. Hagrid was out in the forest, checking on something for his sixth-year class. So I let him in-"  
  
"You what?" Hagrid said. "You can't just let any strangers running loose on the grounds into my cabin!"  
  
"Sorry," Chris apologized. "Well, anyway, I let him in. He was wearing a hood and complained of cold. He asked for some food, so I gave him some."  
  
"Now you can' do that!" Hagrid protested. "It's my food, not yours, to give away!"  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"Let's change the subject. So, Chris, how're your chores coming?"  
  
Chris went very red and muttered something that vaguely sounded like, "I forgot." Liz quickly got up and excused her and her friends, having seen the look on Hagrid's face previously on Mrs. Smith's face when she was about to punish her or Emma for something. "We'll visit later," she promised quickly, closing the door.  
  
"Hurry, hurry, it's Mum's presentation today!" Michael said excitedly, racing down the corridor. Liz and Rachel followed hopelessly behind.  
  
"Just in time," Professor Weasley announced when they finally reached her classroom. "I was going to start without you."  
  
"We're here," Rachel panted, out of breath.  
  
"Good." Professor Weasley, standing behind her desk, began to sink downwards. It was as if her feet and legs and lower body and upper body were melting away until they could no longer see her at all.  
  
"Professor Weasley?" Robert Sorenson asked cautiously.  
  
"Mrow," came the reply. A tabby cat appeared from behind the desk. This only served to make the first-years, save Michael, more confused and distressed.  
  
"Professor Weasley?" Robert repeated.  
  
"Mrow," said the cat, and it began to change form. Almost in a flash, there was an otter where the cat had been.  
  
Michael couldn't contain himself. He burst out laughing. As soon as the otter changed back into Professor Weasley, she smiled too. "Yes, Michael knows my secret. I am an Animagus, someone who can change into an animal at will." A few people scribbled this down in their notes. "The one thing that is unique about my talent is that I can change into two different animals and one into the other. I knew only one other person who could do that." Her eyes turned wistful, like she was remembering something. Then they snapped back to attention. "Your homework is an essay on Animagi, the process of registry.everything you can think of concerning the subject. Due Monday."  
  
"That'll take all weekend, it will," Rachel complained as they headed out.  
  
"At least we have our first flying lesson next," Michael said excitedly. "Wasn't your father a good Quidditch player, Liz?"  
  
"According to McGonagall."  
  
"Maybe you'll take after him."  
  
Liz certainly hoped so. She loved the way flying sounded, so exhilarating and exciting.  
  
"We're here!" Michael announced. A man on the field was beckoning to the approaching first-years.  
  
"Come on. All right. My name is Mr.-Just call me Oliver Wood. I went to Hogwarts a really long time ago. All right, stick your hand over a broom and say, 'Up!'"  
  
At first, Rachel accidentally stuck her hand over Michael's broom, making Liz laugh. Then Liz proudly flourished her hand from her robes and declared, "UP!"  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
"UP!"  
  
Still nothing.  
  
"UP! Up, up, up, up.wha-?"  
  
Her broom hadn't moved at al, and Michael's had flown to his hand on his first try. Making sure Oliver Wood, their flying teacher, wasn't looking, Liz quickly snatched her broom from the ground.  
  
"All right, does everyone have their broom? Here you are," he said to Winnie, handing her unmovable broom to her. "Now mount it."  
  
Michael mounted easily, and Rachel did the same. Liz struggled to get her leg over correctly, and when she had succeeded in that, she tried to grip the handle as Michael did. Oliver Wood had to help her, and took a good fifteen minutes out of class time trying to show her the correct grip.  
  
"All right, now," he said. Liz tightened her grip, determined not to lose it, until her knuckles turned white. "When I blow this whistle, kick off slightly, and then come back down again. All right?" ITweet!/I  
  
Michael and Rachel hovered on Liz's left side and Desiree floated at her right. Liz kicked off a lot harder than need be. She was horizontal in the air for a second, and then she fell flat on her face. She barely wanted to lift her head for the giggles that rang out across the field. Winnie was laughing the loudest.  
  
"Come on, get up," Oliver Wood told her. Liz got to her knees and stopped at a collective gasp. Touching her lip, she gulped and looked at two of her fingertips covered in blood.  
  
"Nasty cut you got there," their teacher remarked, referring to the fact that Liz's lip had a slash almost all the way across it and was bleeding profusely. "I'll go up to the hospital wing and get on of those nifty Instant-Heal Bandages Madame Lesille has up there. Stay put."  
  
As soon as he was out of sight, a Slytherin boy named Martin Stewart said loudly, "Well, he's gone. Let's fly!"  
  
Several of the Hufflepuffs trembled and some of the Ravenclaws wisely shook their heads. But Michael piped up with, "Is that a challenge?"  
  
"Call it what you will," Martin replied, "but I bet I can beat you to the tree and back."  
  
"You're on!" Michael said.  
  
"I'm the referee!" Rachel volunteered. "Racers, mount your brooms! On your mark, get set, GO!"  
  
Michael and Martin took off. Liz stood up, looking very much like she had two bottom lips. The Gryffindors took up a chant of "Michael! Michael!" and some of the Ravenclaws joined in. They were neck-in-neck halfway back from the tree, but Michael slowly started to pull away. Right before he crossed the line, he turned backwards, so he was flying backwards and saw Martin's face when he lost.  
  
The Gryffindors all cheered, but Liz couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. She didn't have much time to feel it, however, because Oliver Wood's cheering joined them.  
  
"Well done, you two!" he said. "Couldn't have done it better myself, Michael. Maybe I should refer you to Celeste Weaver. She's the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, and they're looking for a Seeker."  
  
"Seeker? Me? Wow!" cried Michael.  
  
"What about me?" Martin whined.  
  
"Slytherin team is full. And besides, I don't know if you'd be quite up to it."  
  
Liz grinned as Michael did a strange victory dance. 


	6. The First Disappearance

centerChapter 6 – The First Disappearance/center  
  
By that night, Liz's grin had vanished from her face. The jealousy was coming back, and she felt cheated out of a talent she should have inherited from her father. Michael's dad had even said that he was horrible at Quidditch in his youth. So why did Michael have all the talent?  
  
So great was the thirst to prove herself that Liz snuck out of the Gryffindor tower at midnight, one of the school brooms tucked under her arm. She would show everyone that she could fly just as well as, if not better than, Michael.  
  
Once out of the castle and on the grounds, Liz looked up at the moon as it shone on Hagrid's cabin. Then she put the broom on the ground, stuck her arm out, and said, "UP!" The broom remained motionless.  
  
"Aw, who does that anyway," she muttered, picking it up and mounting correctly.  
  
She kicked off the ground easily, and that gave her false hope. The broom changed speed suddenly. It was going too fast for her to control it. It was like the broom had a mind of its own, and she was just along for the ride. It twirled and spun and jerked around so fast that Liz's head spun. "HELP!" she yelled, knowing no one would hear.  
  
But someone did. Chris came running out with a broom in his hand. "What are you doing?" he yelled up at her.  
  
"I don't know—AAAAAAAAAA!" she screamed as the broom rocketed upward at an astounding speed. It got to an amazing altitude where there was little oxygen for Liz to breathe. Her broom handle seemed to multiply into four, spinning around each other, making her dizzy and giddy at the same time. The cold was so nice, a sleepy sort of nice, the kind that made you want to lie down...The broom stopped horizontally, and she did lay down...someone was yelling, but she didn't know who...suddenly she was filled with a longing to touch the moon...she flew the broom higher, closer to the glowing orb...just a few inches closer now, and she could touch it...but her fingers closed on cold, smooth nothingness...  
  
She slipped sideways off the broom, and the air rushed past her...her eyes slid in and out of focus...and she passed out and knew no more.  
  
center* * */center  
  
"Liz, wake up...Liz...Liz..."  
  
Liz opened her eyes. "What happened?" she muttered thickly. "Am I dead?"  
  
"No," Chris answered, and he swam into view above her. "I caught you when you fell off your broom."  
  
"Quite the flier he is," Madame Lesille remarked from the corner. "I saw him catch you all the way out there and I immediately went out there to get you. You could have been killed!"  
  
"I know," Liz said sheepishly. Now she saw the stupidity in what she had done. "I'm sorry. Thanks, Chris."  
  
Chris smiled.  
  
"All right, Chris, you've done your part for tonight," Madame Lesille said. "You can go on back now."  
  
But Chris insisted on staying the night and making sure that Liz was all right in the morning, so the nurse finally relented. She looked upon them and smiled. Liz soon fell asleep under Chris' watchful gaze.  
  
Madame Lesille released Liz from the hospital wing the next morning. Chris told her that he had to get back to Hagrid. Liz thanked him once more, and then she ran off the find Michael and Rachel.  
  
"Liz! Are you okay?" Rachel yelped. "Madame Lesille sent somebody to tell us early this morning, and we were so worried!"  
  
"Why were you out there in the first place, Liz?" Michael asked, trying not to act concerned, but his eyes showed otherwise.  
  
Liz was relieved when John Peterson came down and said they'd better get to breakfast.  
  
Liz really didn't want to tell Michael she was out there because she was jealous. He'd be upset and Rachel would be upset; it would all be very bad. But Michael seemed as intent on hearing her reason as she was on not telling him. For weeks she avoided the subject as subtly as she could, until one evening at dinner when Michael said suddenly, "So, Liz, you never told me. Why were you out on your broom that night?"  
  
Rachel leaned in to hear Liz's response. Liz reddened and her cheeks went hot. "I...well, um..."  
  
Somebody noisily burst through the doors to the Great Hall. It was a third- year Ravenclaw Liz knew only by face. "SHE'S GONE!" he called hysterically. "SHE'S DISAPPEARED!"  
  
McGonagall and Madame Lesille rushed to him. "Who?" the headmistress asked the frantic boy. "Who's disappeared?"  
  
"Cynthia Moyler," he gasped.  
  
After a quick interrogation, McGonagall sent people to search the entire castle and grounds. The students all discussed what the boy had said.  
  
"What'd he say?" Rachel said. "I couldn't make out what he was saying over his frantic gasps."  
  
So Liz and Michael told her. Cynthia and the boy had been outside in the dark, kissing (Rachel giggled slightly at this) and he looked out into the night for not more than a minute. When he looked back at her, she was gone.  
  
"Were they boyfriend and girlfriend or something?" Michael asked Liz.  
  
"Oh, yes, they were," Desiree piped up from next to Rachel. "But I don't see how Francis ever got a girlfriend."  
  
"His name is Francis?" Rachel laughed.  
  
She stopped, however, when McGonagall reentered the Great Hall and announced that Cynthia Moyler was indeed missing.  
  
"I don't believe it," said Liz.  
  
Cynthia's disappearance was the only topic of discussion for weeks on end. In Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Garb assured them that he was working on solving the "case." Liz and Rachel couldn't help snorting at this, as they doubted he ever did anything but look in the mirror. Michael mocked Desiree's swooning fit.  
  
The disappearance unnerved Liz greatly. Her dreams at night were filled with people vanishing and shadowy figures that vanished, too, into the night...  
  
Liz awoke from one such dream covered in cold sweat. It was only a dream, she told herself. Just a dream. She sat up and breathed deeply. The moon was round and bright that night, and it shone on the Hogwarts grounds. And in the moonlight was a black figure. Liz blinked. It was probably Professor Garb. Maybe he was actually trying to solve Cynthia's disappearance.  
  
With a yawn, Liz went back to bed.  
  
center* * */center  
  
"Come on, you've got to come to the first Quidditch practice! Please?" Michael pleaded with Rachel and Liz.  
  
"Why?" Liz grumbled. Her flying incident had driven all desires for playing or watching Quidditch far out of her mind.  
  
"Because! You can see how good I am!"  
  
"Please, Liz?" Rachel agreed. "It'll be fun!"  
  
Liz sighed. "Fine. I'll come. Let's go before I change my mind."  
  
They headed out. When they reached the entrance, Michael said, "See you later," and left, leaving Liz and Rachel to climb into the stands.  
  
"I bet he's good," Rachel said as they ascended the steps.  
  
"Yeah," Liz said. Cynthia's disappearance had driven Michael's relentless questioning about the reason for Liz's nighttime flying incident away. That was all very well, but Liz's thirst to prove herself in flying had gone to the other extreme in that she never even wanted to think about brooms or Quidditch ever again. She dreaded watching the Gryffindor team practice.  
  
The Quidditch captain, Celeste Weaver stood tall and faced her team. "All right, team," she called, and her voice echoed up into the stands. "As you all know, we have a new team member, Michael Weasley. He's our new Seeker. Michael, this is Sarah McGuire, the Keeper. These are Shannon Dogginsen and Mitchell Mikey, Chasers. I'm the other Chaser. This is Marshall Wong and Stephanie Allen, our Beaters. Guys, this is Michael Weasley." Michael waved a bit. "Now, on your brooms. Let's fly!"  
  
The team mounted and took off in a blur of scarlet and gold. Celeste had Marshall and Stephanie throw golf balls to Michael so he could try to catch them while she, the other Chasers, and the Keeper practiced scoring and saving goals with the Quaffle. It was all so fast-paced.  
  
"Look, he caught another one!" Rachel exclaimed, pointing at Michael, but Liz hadn't been watching; she was watching Shannon put a goal past Sarah, who didn't seem to be the best Keeper for the job.  
  
An hour later, Celeste called the team together, said a few words, and dismissed them until next week. Michael met up with Liz and Rachel as they exited the Quidditch pitch.  
  
"Was I good?" he asked.  
  
"Oh, definitely," Rachel said.  
  
"Yeah, you were," Liz agreed. Jealousy and fear were a thing of the past now. They traipsed happily back up to the castle. 


	7. Luna

centerChapter 7 – Luna/center  
  
Rachel and Liz didn't go to anymore of the team's practices, but they could tell by the way Michael slumped in, exhausted, almost every night that Celeste was working them hard. Liz even took to helping Michael (and Rachel: she listened closely) with his homework, something firmly against her principles.  
  
Class work for all the first-years was building up, too. Several nights, even on the weekend, Liz had to stay up late to finish an essay, report, or chart.  
  
During one such homework load, Liz sat in her dormitory, exhausted. She still had to finish an essay for Professor Longbottom about plants that healed Ever-Growing Scabs. IMaybe I'll just take a quick nap,/I she thought. She had almost dozed off when a tapping sound came at her window. In a daze, she got up and opened it. An owl, a larger version of her own Luna, it seemed, fluttered in bearing a letter. Liz took it and opened it.  
  
Dear Elizabeth,  
How is school this year? It's your first year. I remember my first year. It was your father's second year. Something started attacking students and Petrifying them. It even Petrified a cat and a ghost! But your father saved us all from the danger.  
I didn't have any friends my first year. I hope you have friends, Elizabeth. As I learned after I met Harry, friends are the best things to possess.  
Until I write again,  
Your mother,  
  
Luna  
  
Liz took a breath, and then another. Each one took great effort. Her mother had sent her a letter. Her mother was alive. Wasn't she?  
  
But she couldn't be. McGonagall had said she was gone. Her father had seen her with his own eyes. But her father was dead, too, wasn't he? He hadn't told anyone. Maybe they assumed. Maybe she was alive. There was still hope. But maybe she shouldn't tell anyone yet. They'd think she had gone mad.  
  
With a heavy sigh, she folded up the letter, stuck it in her trunk, and watched the snowy owl fly back out through the window.  
  
By Halloween, Cynthia's disappearance was no longer the chief topic of conversation, but it was still regarded with a certain terror, as she hadn't been found yet.  
  
On Halloween, pumpkins that could barely fit through the doors of the Great Hall were set at each end of each table. By night, the whole Great Hall was transformed into a Halloween haven, and the students came in, in wonder of their surroundings, prepared for the almost legendary Hogwarts Halloween feast.  
  
"I hear it's amazing," Michael said. "They even have real bat wings!"  
  
Liz made a face. "To eat?"  
  
"Of course! It's a delicacy."  
  
"Not my favorite either," Rachel told Liz quietly.  
  
Liz lapsed into silence as they entered the Great Hall. She was thinking about the letter. It had to be. Her mother had to be alive. It talked about the fact that it was her first year, so it had to be written this year. It had to. Her mother was alive. Liz was certain of it. She had to tell someone. How could it be that her mother was alive? This whole thing was driving her insane! Who could she tell? Someone who would believe her, obviously. Which meant...nobody. Nobody would believe her.  
  
It had become a custom for the teachers to count heads at every meal. As Professor McGonagall passed over their heads, Michael brought up the subject of Cynthia's disappearance. "I can't believe they haven't found her yet."  
  
"I know. It's starting to get scary," Rachel agreed.  
  
Liz kept silent, but she knew she agreed.  
  
Michael's mother gasped and whispered something hurriedly to the headmistress. Professor McGonagall gave her a fervent look and rushed to the Hufflepuff table to recount heads, and Professor Weasley proceeded to the last uncounted table, Slytherin. Nobody seemed to notice except Liz, Rachel, and Michael.  
  
"What do you think is the matter?" Michael muttered to the both of them.  
  
"I don't know," Rachel whimpered. Liz knew what she thought was the matter, only it couldn't be. That would be just too horrible.  
  
Her fears were confirmed, however, when McGonagall took the platform and announced, "Has anyone seen Becky Miller today?"  
  
A Hufflepuff raised her hand. "I saw her right after lunch, but not after that."  
  
"It's as I feared," Professor McGonagall said. "Prefects, search for Becky Miller. And—yes, Professor Weasley?"  
  
Mrs. Weasley muttered something in a low voice to Professor McGonagall, who paled even more. "H—has anyone seen Adam Hobbs?"  
  
Heads turned toward the Slytherin table. No one moved.  
  
"Then, prefects, send out searches for Becky Miller and Adam Hobbs. That is all."  
  
A great buzzing swept through the Great Hall as everyone began to talk fearfully.  
  
"More disappearances?" Rachel said loudly. "This is too much."  
  
"And it's a double disappearance," Michael said.  
  
"How awful!" Liz agreed. "I wish they'd hurry up and find them."  
  
Panic ensued throughout the next week. Nobody walked the halls alone, and nobody went up to their dormitory unless someone else was up there also. The common room was always packed until midnight, and only then would people begin to drift upstairs. At the beginning of every meal, everyone waited breathlessly for McGonagall to announce something, only to be disappointed every time.  
  
"We have a Potions exam today," Michael grumbled one morning.  
  
"Since when?" Rachel cried, panicking.  
  
"Since yesterday," Michael answered. "You were sick."  
  
"Do you think he'd let me wait?" Rachel whimpered.  
  
Michael snorted. "Knowing Snape, no."  
  
Liz grinned. "I don't see why you two are so worried. Potions is easy."  
  
Rachel dropped her book when it was halfway out of her bag. Michael's eyes widened. "Easy?" Rachel repeated. "Did I hear you right? You said easy?"  
  
"Yes, easy," Liz repeated. "Facile. Not difficult."  
  
"Well, yeah, for you," Michael said, going back to studying. "Everything is easy for you."  
  
"Not everything," Liz said.  
  
"Oh, really? What aren't you good at?"  
  
"Flying."  
  
Michael's eyes dropped back to his book. "Oh."  
  
The three of them studied until students began to file out the door. Liz, reluctantly followed by Rachel and Michael, headed toward Potions.  
  
They entered last. All the Slytherins and the rest of the Gryffindors had already arrived. Snape eyed them testily.  
  
"You are very lucky," he sneered, "that you are not late. If you were, I would be forced to take ten points from Gryffindor. Consequently, five points from Gryffindor."  
  
All the Gryffindors stared in disbelief. Liz could feel Michael clenching and unclenching his fists beside her. How could Snape be so unfair?  
  
"Everyone find their cauldrons," Snape snapped. "I've rearranged them so everyone isn't next to their best friend." He leered at all of them in turn as they scrambled to follow his instructions. Liz found, much to her dismay, that Snape had placed her next to Winnie Chen. Apparently, Snape didn't care if everyone knew he favored his House, for all the Slytherins seemed to be next to their best friends.  
  
"You may begin. Please brew a Thirst Potion."  
  
Liz worked hard on her potion. She remembered every little ingredient and measurement. But not everyone was doing as well as she was. Rachel kept spilling extra ingredients into hers, while Michael accidentally tipped his cauldron over, spilling most of his potion on the floor.  
  
Snape only gave them an hour, and by that time, Liz's potion was simmering perfectly. There was no way Snape could possibly criticize it now.  
  
Just as Snape stood up to end the exam, Winnie shoved Liz, who had been holding a container of a rather smelly fluid. The bottle flew out of Liz's hand and into her potion, which exploded. Globs of it hit the wall, some of the students, and Snape himself, right on his large nose. It instantly broke out in huge boils.  
  
With a wave of his wand, Snape cleared up the mess and everyone's large welts. "Elizabeth Potter, I'm afraid to say that you have failed this exam."  
  
Winnie grinned and Liz seethed. She hated Winnie and Snape with a passion; that was for certain. As the class filed out, Rachel tried to comfort Liz with, "Don't worry, Snape's a git," but Snape heard her and called after them, "Miss, Yates, that will be a further five points from Gryffindor." Rachel made a face.  
  
In late November, fall seemed to be waiting impatiently for winter. Leaves layered the ground, but the weather was only mildly cold. Many of the first- years began planning snowball fights for when the snow finally decided to show up.  
  
Rachel, Michael, and the other Gryffindor first-years were planning one such activity one morning at breakfast, but Liz didn't feel like joining. She enjoyed warm weather the most. Her mind was on her mother's letter, anyway. It had been a little over a month since she had received it, and was eager for another.  
  
As if on cue, the same snowy owl fluttered in and landed next to Liz as the mail arrived. Rachel noticed. "Liz, what have you been feeding Luna?"  
  
"It isn't Luna," Liz replied, removing the letter from the owl's leg. It hooted happily and soared off. Liz ripped the envelope open and began to read.  
  
Dear Elizabeth, Hello. How are you? I hope you are well. I know I am. Do you have a favorite teacher yet? A least favorite? I had both. My favorite was Professor Flitwick. He was very kind to me, and he was Head of Ravenclaw. My least favorite was Professor Snape. He wasn't nice at all, not a bit like Professor Flitwick. But I know, as mean as he was to me, he was a lot worse to your father. I wonder if he's still teaching. If he is, is he all right to you? If he's not all right to you, just remember that he was probably worse to your father. I must go now. Goodbye.  
  
Luna  
  
Liz drew a shaky breath. Rachel tried to look at the letter, but Liz quickly stuffed it into her bag. Michael wasn't paying attention; he was talking with John about the correct methods of building a snow fort. "What was that?" Rachel inquired.  
  
"A letter," Liz told her evasively. Rachel sighed and looked away. Liz took the letter out one more time, read it through, and put it back. No one, not even her best friends, would believe her. 


	8. Snow and Glumbumbles

A/N: Hey, I'm sooooo sorry it took this long to update, but I've been working on this story over at harrypotterfanfiction.com. I'm on the fifth one currently. :D Any suggestions you make, I try to incorporate into the ones I'm writing now. Thanks to all my reviewers so far! I hope you enjoy it, and please leave a review!  
  
Chapter 8 - Snow and Glumbumbles  
  
December arrived, and with it came winter. Their first now was the second week of the month, and every day thereafter was a paradise of the fragile white flakes. Even though homework was piling up, so was the snow, and all the students found excuses to leave assignments behind in favor of having snowball fights, building snowmen, and making snow angels.  
  
On one such day, Rachel and Michael persuaded Liz to leave her homework for a few hours to come out and enjoy the snow. They all bundled up warmly and headed outside. Most of the students had already gotten the idea and were playing in the snow. Michael spotted some first- and second-year Gryffindors working on building snow forts for a snowball fight, first- years against second-years.  
  
"Can we play?" Rachel asked the first-years crowded in the unfinished fort. Bettie Hess, bundled in shawls and scarves, nodded, so they climbed in as John Peterson and Keith Dircks finished building the fort.  
  
"Attack!" came the cry from the opposing fort, and a shower of snowballs rained down upon them. Desiree squealed and shook the snow out of her air. Michael scooped up some snow, rolled it into a ball, and pelted it at the second-years. The others followed suit, and soon the whole thing had turned into an all-out onslaught. Several people took shelter in the fort, only to be buried chest-deep.  
  
Liz launched a snowball at one of the enemies, only to get one in return, full in the face. Stooping, she gathered up more and threw it as hard as she could. It landed, not on a second-year, but smack on top of Jessica Weasley's head. She had been approaching with some third-year and fourth- year Gryffindors.  
  
"We were going to ask if we could play, but I think it's been decided for us," she spluttered.  
  
"We get fourth-years!" Michael shouted.  
  
So the fourth-year Gryffindors joined them with quick introductions. There were Shannon Wainscott, Brandon Cree, Allison Kennedy, Rodney McCormick, and Karen Duyff. As each one introduced his or herself, they made snowballs and piled them up as an inventory. Each person took two.  
  
"Go!" Michael yelled, and they all launched their snowy weapons. The second- and third-years then launched their counterattack. Next to Liz, Rachel caught a mouthful. Michael lunged over the fort wall, snowballs in tow, and began pelting his sister. She shrieked and launched her own attack at him.  
  
"Ow!" Allison Kennedy cried as three snowballs hit her in the face at once. "I'm going to go take shelter in the fort," she told Liz, who was busy assisting her team in victory, however small her part was.  
  
On sudden inspiration, she whipped out her wand, aimed at the enemy fort, and said, "Inflamaria!" A spark shot from her wand and burned a hole in the wall before the melting snow extinguished it. This she repeated until she had reduced the fort into a pile of snow no bigger than her foot. Then she moved on to their stock of snowballs.  
  
When some of the opposing team noticed that their fort had ceased to exist, they began to yell, "Retreat! RETREAT!" Liz's team made sounds like war cries and chased after them. Liz began to follow, but something caught her eye almost out of her range of vision. She turned. It had been in the direction of the snow fort. Liz neared it with caution. Was Allison in there? She had to be; Liz had been near it ever since she had gone to rest. "Allison?" she asked cautiously. "Are you all right?"  
  
No reply came. Liz inched closer and peered inside. Allison was gone. Vanished in a puff of smoke. Or rather, a flash of light. Liz backed up, trying to breathe. "Help. Help. Help! HELP!"  
  
Both teams halted and turned back. "What?" Michael said. "What is it?"  
  
"Allison," Liz choked. "She's gone."  
  
"Gone?" Shannon said. "Gone where?"  
  
"Gone. Vanished. Disappeared."  
  
"She...where was she?"  
  
"Right here!" Liz said. Wasn't that obvious? "She said she was coming to take shelter and she vanished."  
  
"That can't be true," Brandon cried out.  
  
"You don't believe me?" Liz said bitterly. It was a tense moment in which everyone stared down at Liz, and she felt utterly alone in the middle of their ring. Then Jessica spoke up.  
  
"Someone has to go tell McGonagall. Liz, take someone and go there now."  
  
"I'll go," John volunteered before Rachel or Michael could. He raced off, and Liz followed after him, through the castle doors and through a maze of halls, up and down corridors, all the way to McGonagall's office. John knocked before Liz caught up with him.  
  
"Enter," came their headmistress's voice. The door opened of its own accord. "Yes? What is it?"  
  
"Allison Kennedy is gone," Liz said. "She was there one minute and gone the next."  
  
"Where?" McGonagall inquired sharply.  
  
"Outside. We were having a snowball fight," John piped up.  
  
McGonagall rushed past them toward the site of this latest tragedy, and they followed. The rest of the students were searching and yelling, "Allison! Where are you?" at the top of their lungs.  
  
McGonagall made some quick questions and dashed inside. A few minutes later, she came back out with some of the teachers, and they told the students that they would take it from there. Many of the students looked on fearfully.  
  
"Oh, don't worry," Professor Garb said. "I'll find them. Don't mind your silly little heads about it." And he set off, leaving the students all feeling very patronized. Liz sat and breathed. Somehow, some way, this was going to end up having to do with her.  
  
Two days before Christmas, the students who were going to return home for the holidays departed for the Hogwarts Express. Nearly everyone left; now there had been four disappearances and no one wanted to be the next victim. The students who were staying waved goodbye as they sleds pulled away.  
  
"Happy Christmas!" Michael and Rachel shouted from their sled.  
  
"Happy Christmas!" Liz called back, waving.  
  
Liz was glad she was staying for Christmas. For one, if she went home, Emma would make sure her holidays were ruined. And also, she would miss the Christmas decorations and the magnificent Hogwarts Christmas feast.  
  
On Christmas morning, the sun awoke before Liz did. Liz stretched and hopped out of bed. Outside, it was a cold clear morning. But inside, there were—  
  
"Presents!" Liz said loudly, for there was no one in her dorm to wake. Mr. and Mrs. Smith had sent her a book full of very interesting facts to read, along with a note. Both had come with her owl, Luna, supposedly when Liz sent their presents. The note was merry and kind, but the last full sentence was, "Emma has offered to put the letter in the envelope and attach it to your bird." And down at the bottom there was one word: "FREAK." Liz tore off the bottom and threw it away.  
  
Rachel had sent a large bag of candy, the best present from or for an eleven-year old. Michael had sent a large book of spells that had once belonged to his mother. And Chris had sent up a harmonica that could be played regularly or could play on its own.  
  
Liz was about to rip into Rachel's tasty Christmas present when the snowy owl that usually came bearing a letter with her mother's signature appeared at the window. It did not have a letter, but a large box. As Liz hurried to unlatch and open the window, it struggled and dipped down below her windowsill. She reached out her hands into the frigid air and brought it inside.  
  
It hooted and shook its leg, desperate to free itself from the box. Liz quickly unhooked it and let the owl fly free. Then the box shook. Liz jumped back, startled. What kind of present was this? It had little holes punctured in one side and a low rumbling emanated from it. Gingerly, Liz opened it. Out crawled a tiny orange kitten with a paper in its mouth.  
  
"Aww!" Liz said, scooping up the baby kitten in one hand. "I think I'll name you...Sunny."  
  
"Mew," the kitten replied, nuzzling her neck. Liz grinned and opened the letter.  
  
Dear Elizabeth,  
Happy Christmas! I've got to go now. I'm sorry this was such a short letter.  
Love,  
  
Luna  
  
Liz closed her eyes and sprawled out on the floor. Sunny leapt nimbly onto her back and curled up there, purring. Luna, her owl, perched on top of a Christmas tree that Liz and Rachel had set up before the holidays. The tiny owl looked just like a Christmas star. Liz sighed happily and got up, unsettling her new kitten. "You stay here." The kitten crawled back into the box and began crunching at something. Liz peered in to see cat food scattered everywhere in the box. "Smart, Mum," she said. "Come on, Luna, I bet you need some food too."  
  
After depositing Luna in the Owlery for her own Christmas feast, Liz headed to the Great Hall. Only two other first-years had stayed: John Peterson and David Hannigan of Hufflepuff. There were also a couple of third-years and a fifth-year.  
  
"Welcome!" Professor McGonagall said joyously. "Happy Christmas to you all!"  
  
"Liz!" a voice called from the High Table. It was Chris; he had been sitting next to Hagrid. Now he came down and greeted her. "Happy Christmas! Did you get my present?"  
  
"Yes, thank you so much. Did you get mine?"  
  
He nodded. Liz had gotten him a bag of candy.  
  
"Come on, eat down here with me."  
  
The two of them joined the others, who had all gathered around to a single table. They exchanged Christmas crackers after breakfast, and after that, they all went their separate ways.  
  
Liz and Chris went outside and had a snowball fight (without snow forts; Liz had become very wary of snow forts since Allison's disappearance). After that, Chris dared Liz to go into the Forbidden Forest with him.  
  
"What?" Liz cried. "That's too dangerous!"  
  
"Aw, it's not as bad as people make it out to be. Hagrid goes in there all the time."  
  
"But Hagrid's a—" Liz started to say giant, but then she remembered reading that it was considered an insult. So she said, "He's an adult."  
  
"I went with him once."  
  
"You did?"  
  
"Yeah, it's not all that bad. Come on."  
  
"Oh, fine."  
  
They got as far as the first tree before Liz began to chicken out again. "Let's go back. I'm, uh, hungry."  
  
"We can find things to eat in the forest," Chris said. "Two types of trees in here have edible leaves that grow all year long: Alihotsy and chirb trees. The Alihotsy leaves will make you feel really hysterical, so we better find a chirb tree." And he plunged deeper into the forest. Liz trailed hopelessly behind him.  
  
"Look! I think this is one," he said after a few minutes. He jumped up and grabbed a handful of leaves, then offered one to Liz. "Here. They're really sweet."  
  
Liz took a bite. "Gross! Disgusting! I thought you said they were sweet! That is nasty!"  
  
Chris looked at one of the leaves, and then up at Liz, who was beginning to feel slightly panicked. "What?! What?! WHAT?!"  
  
"Alihotsy," Chris said quietly.  
  
"You mean I ate the leaves that make you hysterical?" Liz screeched. Chris nodded.  
  
"I am so sorry," he apologized. "I thought it was a chirb tree! Honestly!"  
  
"You did? Well, IT WASN'T! Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, I ate an Alihotsy leaf!"  
  
"I know how to make the antidote. We need a glumbumble."  
  
"A WHAT?" Liz shouted at him.  
  
"A furry little insect. Don't worry, there are plenty in here."  
  
So they searched for a glumbumble. Liz looked under every rock in the forest. In doing so, she got so hysterically frustrated that she threw down a rock right on her big toe. Hopping around and screeching, she angrily kicked a tree, which didn't improve matters. Chris found her jumping up and down on one foot, shouting hysterically at a tree with a small indentation on its side.  
  
"I found one."  
  
"Do I have to eat a bug?" she shrieked.  
  
"No. Hang on."  
  
Chris took out a long, thin container of water and a small cup, and he squeezed some of the water into it. "Hold this," he said, handing the tube to Liz, who was surprised to feel that it was warm in the cold winter air. Chris then took the glumbumble and wrung it over the water. It writhed in his hands for a moment, and then it released a blue fluid into the cup. When Chris released it, it scuttled off, looking none the worse for wear. Chris put a lid on the cup, shook it, removed the lid, and handed the cup to Liz. "Drink it," he told her.  
  
Liz shuddered, pinched her nose, and practically inhaled it. It was twice as bitter as the Alihotsy leaf, but it calmed her down. She looked up at Chris. "Thanks."  
  
"Don't mention it," Chris said. "If I hadn't thought the Alihotsy tree was a chirb tree, it wouldn't have happened at all."  
  
"Can we please leave now?" Liz requested.  
  
They trudged through the snow-covered forest until they could see Hagrid's cabin. "I've got to see if Hagrid needs anything," Chris said. "But I'll be down at the Christmas supper later. See you."  
  
"Bye!" Liz said, waving. Then she made her way back up to the castle. 


	9. Valentine's Day

Chapter 9 – Valentine's Day  
  
The rest of the Christmas holidays went by all right. Rachel returned before New Year's, complaining that her little sisters were driving her insane. The two girls often went down to help Chris and Hagrid with something for the older students' Care of Magical Creatures class. The rest of the students returned about mid-January.  
  
Quidditch season had been going on for quite some time now, but with all the homework, Liz had never been able to make it to one of the games. Somehow, Rachel had managed to make time to go watch, even if Gryffindor wasn't playing. With the third game of the season approaching, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, Michael was very determined to have Liz come watch as well.  
  
"Come on, you've got to come, it'll be fun, everyone's going to be there—"  
  
"Everyone but me. Michael, I have a report on moonstones due in Potions on Monday!"  
  
"So do I. Do it tomorrow."  
  
Liz sighed. "Fine. But if I fail Potions, on your own head be it!"  
  
Rachel looked bewildered and Liz groaned. "It means it'll be his fault."  
  
"Oh," Rachel said. "Right."  
  
So that Saturday, Liz reluctantly trudged up to the Quidditch stands, thinking of her report that was sitting on a table in the common room. She and Rachel found seats near Bettie and Alberta, who were discussing Allison's disappearance. Liz tried to tune them out.  
  
"Welcome to the third Quidditch math of the season, Slytherin versus Gryffindor!" yelled the commentator, a fourth-year Gryffindor named Josh Lepress. "It promises to be a great match, folks."  
  
The Gryffindor and Slytherin teams came onto the field, and so did Oliver Wood, carrying a large wooden box. He opened it, released the Bludgers and the Golden Snitch, took out the Quaffle, blew his whistle, and tossed the Quaffle high up in the air.  
  
"Let the game begin!  
  
"Celeste Weaver has the Quaffle. She passes to Shannon Dogginsen, who passes down to Mitchell Mikey—oh, no, he's missed it and Julie Bourden of Slytherin takes it up the field. About to make a goal against Sarah McGuire. Ooh, a Bludger from Stephanie Allen, and Julie drops the Quaffle and Celeste Weaver gets it, she's shooting up the field to Slytherin Keeper Alan Montague, she shoots, SHE SCORES! Ten points to Gryffindor!"  
  
A cheer rose up from the Gryffindor stands as Celeste did a victory lap. Liz looked up at Michael, who seemed not to have noticed. He was concentrated on looking for the Snitch.  
  
"All right, Slytherin ball, Chaser Billy Monaghan has it, no one's in his way, no Bludgers to be seen, just him, Gryffindor Keeper Sarah McGuire, and the goal posts...he shoots, SAVE IT, SARAH! Well, Slytherin scores, ten to ten...Gryffindor didn't have a lead for long..."  
  
"Come on, Michael, find the Snitch so I can go do my report," Liz hissed as Michael circled the field high up in the air. Then, suddenly, he dove downwards. The Slytherin Seeker followed in a downward spiral. All eyes were on them now.  
  
"Go, Michael, go!" both Liz and Rachel cried. Michael stretched out his hand, and so did the Slytherin Seeker...but he came up empty, and the crowd roared as Michael held up the golden ball, madly struggling between his fingers.  
  
"GRYFFINDOR WINS, ONE HUNDRED SIXTY TO TEN!" Josh screamed from his perch in the stands. All around him, the Gryffindors were hopping up and down and cheering. Liz and Rachel raced out onto the field to congratulate Michael before the team piled on him in a gigantic group hug.  
  
"See, wasn't this better than doing a report for Snape?" Rachel asked Liz.  
  
"Oh, my gosh! My report!" Liz cried. "I've got to go, see you in the common room!" And she rushed off.  
  
"Look at this, Liz," Rachel said after Potions on Monday. "I failed my report on moonstones."  
  
"Hmm, I wonder why," Liz said sarcastically. "Maybe it's because you did it this morning."  
  
"I didn't," Michael piped up, "and I failed, too."  
  
"You did yours last night. Don't feel bad; I didn't get a perfect score," Liz said.  
  
"That's because Snape's a bitter old git," Rachel said. "And your grade is still a nine out of ten."  
  
The three of them followed the rest of the first-year Gryffindors to Transfiguration. Professor Weasley was waiting for all of them to finally straggle in. When all were present, she strode to the front of the room and beamed at each of them in turn.  
  
"I am happy to announce that Hogwarts is holding its annual Valentine's Day Dance on Valentine's Day. It is going to be a lot of fun. The Valentine's Dance was a tradition started about eight or nine years ago, and it has been held every year since. Remember, it's on February fourteenth. Now take out your textbooks."  
  
After studying on the procedure to undo a Transfiguration procedure, the class filed out, talking excitedly about the upcoming dance.  
  
"I hope someone asks me!" Rachel said.  
  
"Me too," Liz agreed.  
  
"Why wait?" Michael asked. "I mean, for a boy to ask you. Why not ask a boy yourself?"  
  
Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Because everyone knows that girls can't ask boys. It's an unspoken rule."  
  
"Right," Michael answered. "I don't see why you can't just ask someone who you'd want to go to the dance with. It seems stupid."  
  
"It is stupid," Liz agreed. "But so is Snape, and you don't see anyone getting rid of him yet."  
  
The love bug had bitten the whole school, and it seemed the only ones who hadn't been bitten were Liz, Rachel, and Michael. Every evening, two people had started holding hands. And every evening, it bothered Liz even more.  
  
"I mean, she's eleven! And he's twelve!" she exclaimed as Desiree passed them in the common room, hand-in-hand with a second-year.  
  
"How'd she get asked by a second-year?" Rachel said.  
  
"That isn't the point, Rachel."  
  
"Then what is the point?"  
  
"Look, if you go with someone when you're eleven or twelve, it's supposed to be with a friend, like going somewhere with a friend," Liz said.  
  
"Then one of us should go with Michael."  
  
Both of them looked at each other. "You take him!" they both cried at the same time.  
  
"Well, I'm not going with him," Liz said.  
  
"Neither am I!" Rachel said.  
  
"Um, Liz?" said a voice behind them. "May I speak to you for a moment?"  
  
Both Liz and Rachel looked around. John Peterson was standing behind them. "Sure, John," Liz said, slightly surprised. He helped her up from her spot on the floor and led her to a corner where no one would hear.  
  
"Uh, well, I know it's out of nowhere, sort of, but...will you come to the dance with me?"  
  
"Oh, absolutely, John," Liz said.  
  
John looked pleased. "Well, I'll...see you later, then."  
  
"Bye," Liz said, rushing over to Rachel. "He asked me to the dance!"  
  
"Really? Oh, Liz, you've got to tell me how it is. I bet you'll have a lot of fun."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Liz said.  
  
"Well," Rachel sighed, "I decided that I'm not going unless someone asks me. Which means I'm not going."  
  
"Go with Michael! He's no going to ask anyone, and that way you won't be under the pressure of going on a date at eleven."  
  
Rachel gave Liz a look that said that was most certainly not an option and picked up her Transfiguration book to study. Liz sighed and followed suit.  
  
As Valentine's Day drew ever nearer, Liz found that John didn't share her views on dating at the age of eleven. He always found a way to sit next to her at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He talked to her before classes, after classes, and (much to Liz's annoyance) during classes. Once he even offered to help her with her homework, which Liz politely declined. It got to the point where Liz hid herself in the bathrooms as he passed, asking people if they had seen her.  
  
"Help me," she hissed one evening to Rachel and Michael, who were sitting in the common room doing homework.  
  
"You're the one who said you'd to go the dance with him," Michael said.  
  
"I believe your exact words were, 'Oh, absolutely, John!'" Rachel said, exaggerating and swooning.  
  
"He won't leave me alone!" Liz complained.  
  
"Here he comes," Michael said as John entered through the portrait hole.  
  
Liz jumped to her feet. "If he asks, I'm not feeling well and I'm up in my dorm." She raced away and up the stairs.  
  
At about ten, Liz decided it was safe to go back down. John usually went up to bed at nine-thirty. She found Rachel and Michael down there alone.  
  
"The coast is clear," Rachel said.  
  
"Good thing, too," Liz replied, taking out a book.  
  
They sat in silence for a while, Rachel and Michael working on homework and Liz reading her book. After a while, Michael spoke up, "Do both of you have dates for the dance?"  
  
"No, and it's not a date," Liz said quickly. "I would never date someone so annoying."  
  
"Mmm," Michael replied. There was complete and total silence for almost ten full seconds, and then he said, "I think it's really stupid to have it as dates, you know? We're eleven."  
  
When Liz didn't immediately agree, Rachel looked at her. She had her face completely hidden behind her book. "Yeah, I know what you mean."  
  
"Hey, since you're not going with anybody and I'm not going with anybody, do you want to go with me? Just," he added, "as friends."  
  
"Sure, Michael," Rachel said.  
  
Michael nodded and returned to his homework.  
  
February fourteenth dawned upon the towers of Hogwarts. Most of the school slept in, since it was a Saturday. Indeed, Professor McGonagall didn't turn up in the Great Hall until nearly ten o'clock.  
  
"Look, Liz!" Rachel exclaimed at breakfast, pointing in the air at a gray owl.  
  
Liz looked up and groaned. "It is not coming over here, it is not coming over here..."  
  
"It's coming over here," Michael said.  
  
"Be quiet!" Liz told him.  
  
But the bird landed directly in front of her. It came bearing two pink roses, candy, and a note.  
  
Happy Valentine's Day! From, John.  
  
"Well, he didn't sign it, 'With love, your dearest John,'" Rachel said.  
  
"Look! Pink!" Liz exclaimed excitedly. "They're pink! Pink roses! This is the happiest day of my life!"  
  
Rachel and Michael stared at her, then at each other, and then back at her. "Maybe he put a Love Spell on it or something," Michael said.  
  
"No!" Liz cried. "Don't you see? Pink stands for friendship! He just wants to be friends!"  
  
"Somehow I doubt that," Rachel said. "After all, he's been following you everywhere for a week and a half."  
  
"Yeah," Michael agreed. "Maybe the florist was out of red. Besides, I doubt he knows pink stands for friendship. I know I didn't."  
  
Both Liz and Rachel looked at him, rolled their eyes, and looked away.  
  
At four, Rachel pulled Liz up to their dormitory to help her get ready for the dance. "What, you need three hours to get ready?" Liz said. "You're going with your best friend!"  
  
"Yeah, but if I look absolutely stunning, maybe a cute second-year will ask me to dance," Rachel replied, holding up her dress robes and looking at herself in the mirror.  
  
"So you're going to just ditch Michael?"  
  
"Of course not! I'll make sure he has a clear view of the punch bowl."  
  
"You're hopeless, Rachel."  
  
"I know. Now, which eye shadow goes best with my robes?"  
  
The two got ready, and the entire time Liz wanted to scream out, "We're eleven!" but she restrained herself and helped Rachel. After that, Liz changed into her robes and stood back, admiring herself in the mirror.  
  
"What, you're going with your hair like that?" Rachel said.  
  
"What's wrong with my hair?"  
  
"Oh, nothing. It's just in the exact same style as you always wear it. And no makeup? Come here. We mustn't disappoint dear John, now, mustn't we?"  
  
Liz started to retort, but as she felt an eyeliner pencil on her eyelid, she decided she'd rather stay silent and still than lose an eye. Rachel worked on her for almost as long as she had worked on herself. "There!" she said at last. "Look at yourself! Don't you love the way the foundation matches your skin tones?"  
  
Liz looked at herself and choked. "I look like a clown."  
  
"No, you don't. Now for your hair."  
  
Liz glanced desperately at the clock. "Rachel, it's six fifty-seven. The dance starts in three minutes."  
  
"Then I'll use a spell. Hold still."  
  
"On my hair? Rachel!"  
  
"You'll look great. Now hold still."  
  
Liz closed her eyes as Rachel whipped out her wand, muttered a few indistinguishable words, and aimed at her head. With trepidation, she opened one eye a crack and peeked at herself. "Wow!" she cried. Her hair was too elaborate and lovely to be described in words.  
  
"You look great. Now let's go!"  
  
They dashed out behind Alberta, who had tried to make her hair less stringy, and had achieved just the opposite. Michael and John were waiting for them at the foot of the stairs.  
  
"You look great," Michael told Rachel.  
  
"You do too," John said to Liz, who smiled weakly.  
  
The four of them came into the Great Hall behind Desiree and her second- year date. Michael and Rachel stopped to talk, but John took Liz over to the dance floor. "I'm not very good at dancing," Liz found herself saying.  
  
"Me neither," said John, "but it's a dance. Come on!"  
  
Reluctantly, Liz danced with him. They twirled and spun all across the dance floor. From across it, Liz saw Chris walk in, wearing his own dress robes. She tried to call out to him, but John twirled her and dipped her. Well, he tried to dip her. The result was a not-so-graceful lading on the floor and a sore back. John helped Liz up. "Are you all right?"  
  
Liz nodded, then said, "You know what? One of my friends just showed up, and I want to say hello. I'll be right back." And she left John on his own.  
  
"Chris! Where are you?" she called. Dodging past a couple of sixth-years, she finally spotted him. But before she could reach him, Bettie Hess sidestepped in front of her. "Hi, I'm Bettie. What's your name?"  
  
"Chris," he replied.  
  
"Do you want to dance?" she asked.  
  
"Sure."  
  
They went off. Liz felt extremely angry. Bettie had destroyed her last chance of having a good time. She had just wanted to talk to Chris and avoid John, but those hopes were dashed. Seething, Liz made her way past Winnie Chen and Martin Steward to John.  
  
"Did you find your friend?"  
  
"No," she replied.  
  
"Oh. Do you want some punch?"  
  
She said, "Sure," and followed him to the refreshment table. He poured them both some punch from the punch bowl, which was enchanted to always refill itself. Liz sipped from her cup with the knowledge that it would be the worst night of her life and she would have to suffer through it. She glimpsed Chris and Bettie from far away, still dancing.  
  
John and Liz seated themselves near the refreshment table. The line behind it grew and dwindled and grew again. Presently, Bettie and Chris appeared there.  
  
Suddenly, without knowing what made her do it, Liz stuck out her foot in Bettie's way. Bettie tripped and fell face-first into the punch bowl, spilling much of it on the floor. She slipped and hit the edge of the table. The punch bowl catapulted into the crowd, drenching everyone. What was worse, the bowl kept refilling itself and dumping out its contents on the floor. Dozens of dancers ended up on the floor with it.  
  
Professor Weasley noticed a disturbance from her perch at the High Table. "What's going on down here—" And, with a shriek and a splash, she slipped in the inch-deep puddle of punch. A couple of students attempted to help her up, but only ended on the ground next to her.  
  
The punch was a good three inches deep before anyone thought of righting the punch bowl, and a good five inches before anyone could stand up to get near it. When it had been returned to its proper position, it floated away. Professor McGonagall waved her wand, and all the punch simply evaporated. People looked around for the origin of the commotion.  
  
Bettie glared Liz down and stalked off without a word. Winnie Chen, drenched in the red stuff, pointed at Liz. "She did it! She did it!" she announced shrilly.  
  
All eyes turned to Liz, who grinned weakly. 


	10. Quidditch and Owls

Chapter 10 – Quidditch and Owls  
  
"That was a complete fiasco," Liz sighed miserably.  
  
"You didn't get punished," Michael said.  
  
"Yeah, McGonagall just told you off in front of the entire school," Rachel added.  
  
"And it wasn't embarrassing or humiliating at all," Liz said sarcastically. "That was the worst night of my life!"  
  
"But John did get the idea that you just want to be friends," said Rachel. "For now, at least."  
  
"So!" Michael said brightly. "The next Quidditch match is coming up."  
  
"When?" Rachel asked.  
  
"Next week. Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff."  
  
"So Gryffindor isn't playing?" asked Rachel disappointedly.  
  
"No. But it'll be fun to watch, won't it?"  
  
Liz walked along in silence. For the past two days she had been miserable. People scowled at her in the halls, during classes, everywhere. She was now the first-year who had permanently ruined Valentine's Day. Only Rachel, Michael, Chris, and John would still speak to her, and John only said, "Hello," stiffly, once in a while in the common room.  
  
They had gone to visit Chris the day before, and he didn't hold any grudge at all. In fact, he had made it plain that he thought the whole thing was an accident and Bettie should have been watching where she was going. He and Michael then became engaged in a heated discussion of Quidditch, at both the Hogwarts and the world level.  
  
The next Saturday found Michael, Chris, Rachel, and Liz high up in the stands of the Quidditch field, watching Oliver Wood release the balls and seeing the Ravenclaw and the Hufflepuff players take off.  
  
"And they're off!" yelled Josh. "Joe Morrison of Ravenclaw has the Quaffle, passes to Jeffery Schaub, who passes to Krista Whitley, back to Morrison, he's up against Hufflepuff Keeper and Captain Justin Velez, he shoots, he scores! Nice job, Joe. All right, it's Ravenclaw ten, Hufflepuff nothing, plenty of time to catch up, thought, it's only one goal...er, make that two goals. Ravenclaw Chaser Krista Whitley scores, making it twenty-zero."  
  
The match continued in the same manner: Ravenclaws got the Quaffle, Ravenclaws scored. The only exception was when Bludgers knocked the Quaffle off course, and then the Ravenclaws got it and scored. It was one hundred sixty-nothing when the Seekers came tumbling through the air, seemingly out of nowhere, after the Snitch.  
  
"The Ravenclaw Seeker is Jack Guevara. He's the Captain and a sixth-year. The Hufflepuff Seeker is Kathryn Hertel, a fourth year. Celeste says Kathryn is almost as good as your dad, Liz," said Michael very fast. Many of the players stopped to watch the two go after the little winged gold ball.  
  
"There they go! Look at them fly!" Josh yelled. "They're neck-in-neck!"  
  
Both Seekers stretched out their hands at the exact same moment, but only one caught the Snitch. The yells of the Hufflepuff crowd soon died down and were replaced by the screams from the Ravenclaws.  
  
"Kathryn Hertel gets the Snitch, but Ravenclaw wins! Can't say it's an unprecedented move, though. The same thing happened at the World Cup, summer '94. Doesn't look like Velez is too happy with her, though."  
  
The Hufflepuff Captain had soared to his Seeker and started to yell. Meanwhile, the Ravenclaws yelled and cheered all together.  
  
"Y'know, my dad was at the '94 Quidditch World Cup," Michael said. "Still says he doesn't believe it."  
  
"Neither do I," Liz said. "That was the stupidest move ever!"  
  
"Not if you think about it," said Michael.  
  
Liz sighed. "The only thing I want to think about right now if finishing my homework."  
  
"Oh, darn, I have an essay for History of Magic to finish," Rachel said. "Let's go inside." Together, the three of them followed the hordes of excited Quidditch fans back up to the castle.  
  
March followed February, and with it came spring. The soft fragrance of flowers found its way through every open window, and the lure of the outdoors was still too strong to be overcome. The harder workers, like Liz, brought their schoolwork outside with them.  
  
"I love spring," Rachel said one day. "It smells so nice!"  
  
"I like spring because my birthday is in two and a half weeks," Liz said, grinning.  
  
"Really? You'll be twelve? What day exactly?" Michael asked her.  
  
"March twenty-fourth," Liz answered him.  
  
Most people had gotten over their distaste for Valentine's Dance ruiners and were speaking to Liz again. All except for Bettie. Liz figured that Bettie would never forgive her. However, the rest of the student body seemed willing to forgive and forget. Alberta and Desiree waved from across the grounds, and Liz, Rachel, and Michael waved back.  
  
"It's time for lunch," announced Michael.  
  
They were almost the first ones in the Great Hall. A couple of people had already filtered in, and McGonagall was talking with the Head Boy up at the High Table. Slowly, people made their way in, and soon many people were impatient for food.  
  
McGonagall stood, supposedly to make their lunch appear, but first said, "Could I have the Head Girl, Lauren Thomas, up here for a quick word?"  
  
There was silence. Lauren Thomas did not appear.  
  
"Lauren Thomas? Is she here? Has anyone seen her today?"  
  
Murmurs broke out across the Hall. People up and down the Gryffindor table were shaking their heads. McGonagall came down to count heads.  
  
"Do not fear, children!" Professor Garb said, standing and spreading his arms wide. "If she is gone, I will find her! I am this close to cracking the case—"  
  
"Sit down, Theseus," Professor Weasley snapped. Professor Garb sank slowly back into his chair.  
  
By then end of the day, it was made clear: Lauren Thomas of Gryffindor was missing. Liz barely slept that night.  
  
* * *  
  
The first thought that came to Liz's mind on her birthday was, "Let's see, Cynthia, Becky, Adam, Allison, Lauren. That's five people missing." Then it dawned on her that it was March twenty-fourth. She hopped out of bed, got dressed, and headed down to the common room.  
  
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" cried Rachel and Michael. They had been waiting at the foot of the stairs leading up to the girls' dormitory. Liz grinned as they both thrust presents at her.  
  
"Thanks," she said. "Which one should I open first?"  
  
"Mine! Mine!" squeaked Rachel. "Here!" Liz tore into it. It was a quill with ink that never ran out. Next, she opened Michael's gift. It was a bag of Sugar Quills.  
  
"Thanks," Liz repeated. "Let's go to breakfast."  
  
The first owl that entered the Great Hall at mail time that morning was Chris's. It landed before her, carrying an alarm clock. She had just finished admiring it when another owl landed, nearly in her plate. It was the owl from her mother.  
  
"Whose is that?" asked Rachel.  
  
"My mum's," Liz muttered.  
  
"Your Muggle mother has an owl? Wow!" Rachel exclaimed. Liz didn't bother to correct her; she wouldn't believe the truth anyway. She ignored the package just then and ripped the letter open.  
  
It read:  
  
Dear Elizabeth, Happy Birthday! It's your twelfth birthday. I remember, on my birthday (I was turning fifteen or sixteen) we learned the Disappearing Charm in class. It made things and even people disappear to somewhere you wanted them to go. You say, "Disapparatus!" and concentrate on where you want to send it (or him or her). Maybe you should try it, hmm? Enjoy your present!  
Your mother,  
Luna  
  
Liz sat in silence for a moment. Her thoughts were punctuated with Rachel saying, "How did your Muggle mother get a Wizarding Wireless?"  
  
"I gave her a catalogue from Diagon Alley." Liz lied. She instantly felt horrible for lying to her best friend. But, she reminded herself, she would never believe the truth. Liz picked up the Wizarding Wireless and turned it on.  
  
"Welcome to the WWN, Wizarding Wireless Network. Up next is the hit song, 'Under My Spell,' by singing sensation Cassandra Spellman."  
  
"I wish my parents would get me a Wizarding Wireless," Michael said enviously. "For my last birthday, they gave me a toy broomstick."  
  
Liz sighed. She wished she could see her mother. She wished, with all her heart, that she could be there so she could thank her. 


	11. Further Disappearances

Chapter 11 – Further Disappearances  
  
The rest of the day was spent at classes. After that, Liz found an empty classroom and tried the Disappearing Charm. It was extremely difficult, probably something on the sixth-years' exams. But Liz was determined to master it. It was like her mother's birthday present, even more valuable than a Wizarding Wireless: the knowledge of a spell.  
  
Liz practiced and practiced until she could finally make an object disappear and reappear at the other side of the room. It took weeks to manage the spell completely: She made something disappear, and then she ran to see if it had appeared in the dorm on her bed.  
  
"Will you do me a favor?" Liz asked Rachel and Michael over dinner one evening in mid-April.  
  
"What?" Rachel asked doubtfully.  
  
"I need to practice this spell. And I need test subjects. Please?"  
  
"What does it do?" Michael inquired.  
  
"It makes things and people disappear from one place to the other."  
  
After some pleading, Rachel finally relented. Michael soon agreed, too. "If," he said, "and only if, you help me write my essay for Charms."  
  
"Fine," said Liz. "Can you do it after—"  
  
But she was cut off when Professor McGonagall stood and cleared her throat for attention. "I'm afraid to say there have been two more disappearances." She waited for the noise to subside. "Wesley Aelvoet of Ravenclaw and Ashley Turner of Hufflepuff are missing."  
  
Jessica Weasley dropped her spoon. Audible gasps were heard all over the Great Hall.  
  
"Never fear, chil—oh, erm, never mind," Professor Garb said, catching the glare Professor Weasley was shooting at him.  
  
"Though I needn't remind you," McGonagall continued, "we are dealing with a particularly horrible crisis. Travel with more than one person. Practice extreme caution. Thank you."  
  
Talking broke out again. Michael had a pained look on is face. "I wish Garb would really try to look for them."  
  
"He'd probably do more harm than help," Liz said.  
  
"That's for sure," Rachel agreed. "He's a coward."  
  
"I believe dinner's over," Liz said. "Shall we go? And yes, Michael, I'll help you with your Charms essay."  
  
"But McGonagall said to be careful," Rachel said.  
  
"She also said to travel with more than one person. Come on!"  
  
They left the Great Hall amidst fervent, worried chatter and found the unused classroom Liz used to practice. "Okay, you stand there, Rachel, and Michael, you stand there."  
  
"Do I have to?" Michael said.  
  
"Yes," Liz replied firmly. "Michael, I'll do you first. Ready?"  
  
"I'm really not sure, I—"  
  
"Disapparatus!" Liz cried, pointing her wand at him and concentrating. Michael disappeared.  
  
"Where'd you send him?" Rachel asked in amazement.  
  
"If all went well—" Liz began, barely able to contain her laughter, but Michael burst the door open and interrupted.  
  
"Why'd you send me to the girls' bathroom?" he panted, his chest heaving. "What the heck were you thinking?"  
  
"She was thinking it would be funny," Rachel gasped between giggles. "She was right."  
  
"Your turn," Liz said, turning to Rachel.  
  
"If you send me to the boys' bathroom..."  
  
"Disapparatus!" Liz cried, and Rachel was gone.  
  
"Where'd you send her?" asked Michael.  
  
"Just outside."  
  
"What? That's not fair!"  
  
Liz just smiled as Rachel came bursting in. "That was great, Liz!" she exclaimed. "You can really do the spell! Where did you learn it?"  
  
"I—in a book," Liz said. She mentally kicked herself. She would have to tell her friends the truth sooner or later; otherwise, this lie would snowball into something she couldn't handle.  
  
They practiced for a little while longer, and Liz didn't send them anywhere embarrassing again. At six, Professor McGonagall burst in. "What are you three doing in here?"  
  
"Studying," Michael said simply. Liz stayed silent.  
  
"Well, you can study just as well in the common room, can't you? Weren't you listening when I said to exercise caution?"  
  
"And to travel with more than one person," Rachel added.  
  
"I only meant when you really needed to. Now go to Gryffindor common room. Go!" And she shooed them out of the unused classroom.  
  
Liz didn't get to practice on humans anymore. She barely got to practice at all. No one would let anyone out, even in groups of three. Everyone had to be supervised at all times. And on top of that, homework piled up again in preparation for exams.  
  
"They're thinking about exams at a time like this?" Rachel complained under a load of books.  
  
In the second week of May, Liz, Rachel, and Michael went to visit Chris. He was trying to help Hagrid control some sort of creature with a head like a cat and a rear like a dragon (albeit a very small one). The cathead kept breathing fire.  
  
"Hold on jus' a minute," Hagrid said, grabbing for the cat-dragon and missing.  
  
"Hagrid!" Chris yelled. "What are we going to call this thing?"  
  
"Well," Hagrid answered, "it's a cat and a dragon, how about a caggon?"  
  
"Or a drat," Chris said. "That what I thought when it escaped."  
  
Eventually, they lured it back into its cage with some tuna mixed with meat for its dragon side and took a rest. Hagrid breathed deeply. Chris led them inside.  
  
"Hagrid really is working hard for his Care of Magical Creatures classes. He's taken to breeding," Chris said.  
  
It was an unspoken conclusion after seeing the drat that Chris meant illegal breeding.  
  
"How've you been?" Rachel asked.  
  
"Pretty good. And you all?"  
  
All three said, "Fine."  
  
"Yeah, it's been pretty boring for a while. I mean besides all the drats." He grinned. "But you remember way back at the beginning of the year when I told you I saw that stranger on the grounds. Well, I saw him again in the middle of April sometime. Don't tell Hagrid, but I gave him some food. I feel sorry for the man."  
  
"Mid-April?" Liz asked suddenly. "What day?"  
  
"Well, let's see...it was the day after Hagrid's birthday on April, erm, fourteenth, I believe? That would make it the fifteenth."  
  
"That's the day Wesley and Ashley went missing," Michael said.  
  
There was a tense pause, and then Rachel asked fearfully, "Does that mean he had something to do with it?"  
  
"Maybe," answered Chris. "Maybe not. It could be a coincidence."  
  
"I doubt it," Liz said quietly. "Chris, what did he look like?"  
  
"He had a cloak on. I thought it would be rude to ask him to take it off if he didn't do it himself."  
  
At that moment, Hagrid barged in, carrying a rattling box that housed the drat. "Why do you all look so glum?"  
  
"It's been a long week, Hagrid," Chris said. "And they've had a lot of homework."  
  
"Glad ter see you three getting' along so well," Hagrid said, taking a seat near the empty fireplace.  
  
They visited a little while longer, and then Liz reminded Rachel and Michael that they had to practice Transfiguration for their exam tomorrow. They said goodbye and left.  
  
"You don't think that man—"  
  
"I don't want to think about it right now, Rachel," said Liz.  
  
The days passed on in tense apprehension. No one doubted the culprit would strike again, least of all Liz, Rachel, Michael, and Chris. No one was allowed outside the common room after six, when dinner ended. Everyone stayed in the common room until almost midnight, and then they went up to the dorms in packs, as if they believed that if they were alone for three minutes, they too would vanish into thin air.  
  
Exams were a month away. Some of the first-years were beginning to panic. Alberta Monroe and Bettie Hess frantically quizzed each other at every meal. Liz would have felt compelled to help them, but Bettie hadn't spoken to her since the Valentine's Day Dance fiasco.  
  
One such evening, Bettie and Alberta were especially noisy. Michael was quizzing Rachel, and Liz was studying by herself. Looking up, she noticed Professor McGonagall whispering in Professor Weasley's ear. Michael's mother's eyes were filling with tears.  
  
"Look," she muttered to Rachel and Michael.  
  
"I wonder what's wrong," Rachel said.  
  
Michael leaped up and rushed to his mother, and they spoke together in low voices. Michael's eyes widened and began welling up, too.  
  
"Something's the matter," Liz said ominously.  
  
Professor McGonagall stood and waited for the chatter to die down. "Attention, students. There has been another disappearance."  
  
Liz's breath caught in her throat. She knew what was coming next.  
  
"Jessica Weasley is missing."  
  
Michael's mother stood with her face in her hands and rushed out of the Great Hall. Rachel leaned over to Liz and muttered, "Should we tell McGonagall about that man?"  
  
Liz shrugged, trying to swallow her food, but her throat wasn't working properly. Michael sat back down, suffering in silence. Liz felt an instant rush of sorrow. How could this be happening?  
  
The sun set on a castle filled with fear. 


	12. The Dragon

Chapter 12 – The Dragon  
  
Michael was silent. He did not say anything at all the next day, the last day of May. Liz and Rachel wished to break the silence, but they didn't want to seem rude or insensitive. Professor Weasley was equally, if not more, distressed about Jessica's disappearance. Liz had never imagined the culprit would take someone she knew. She thought about telling McGonagall about the man. It weighed so heavy on her heart that, finally, she decided to do it. Liz waited outside the Great Hall for the headmistress.  
  
"Professor McGonagall?"  
  
Professor McGonagall looked taken aback. "Yes, Elizabeth? Is there something wrong?"  
  
Liz drew a deep breath. She couldn't do it. "I—I was just wondering where Jessica disappeared."  
  
"In her dormitory. Why?"  
  
"Just—just wondering. Thank you."  
  
Right after dinner, Liz rushed to the common room before anyone else. She ascended the stairs to the third-year girls' dormitory. Thrusting back the hangings on Jessica's bed, she stopped, sighed, and lay across the bed. What was she doing? What did she expect to find? Clues?  
  
She pulled the pillow under her head. Something met her hand. Liz picked it up.  
  
Seiks eht ot ekat lleh mih sah nogard ecno. Seil dlot neeb seh mih fo swonk yob eno. Esirprus yb strawgoh ekat lliw nogard eht. Seid htnom htxis eht sa noom lluf eht no.  
  
Liz stared at it. Maybe it was in some kind of code. Or maybe in a different language. If so, Liz would never be able to read it. In any case, she was sure it had something to do with Jessica. She perused it again, trying to find some kind of pattern. Nothing.  
  
She sighed and pocketed it. Maybe she'd figure it out later. Now wasn't the time.  
  
She edged past the third-year girls going tearfully up to their dorm and went down to Rachel and Michael, who were sitting in the quiet that seemed to engulf the room in its noiselessness. Rachel jerked her head up when Liz entered the room, but Michael continued to stare at his lap.  
  
"I found something. It was on Jessica's bed," Liz announced.  
  
In a flash, Michael leapt out of his seat and snatched the note out of her hand. After staring at it for a few minutes, he said in a hollow tone, "This is just a bunch of rubbish."  
  
Rachel took it and nodded. "Maybe someone just wrote down random letters."  
  
Liz took it back and folded it up. "Somehow I don't think so," she murmured.  
  
Exams were upon them.  
  
"Okay, the council of 1542 decided to ban, um, wands?"  
  
Liz gave Rachel an exasperated look over the History of Magic notes she was quizzing her from. "Wands?"  
  
"All right, er, then—turtles, or something?"  
  
"Experimental breeding of magical creatures."  
  
"Oh. That."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I didn't know what they banned. How am I supposed to know why?"  
  
"Because this exam is in ten minutes."  
  
"Um—because it was, er, bad?"  
  
Liz sighed deeply. "Try again."  
  
"Did somebody do something?"  
  
"Yes. Who were they and what did they do?"  
  
"Did it have anything to do with—turtles?"  
  
"Rachel! It was because Albert Hankins bred a dog with a billywig and the results were devastating. People floated around from the billywig stings for days. They thought it was a normal dog."  
  
"Right. I was about to say that."  
  
"We've got to go," Michael told them.  
  
"Wait! But I'm not done!" Rachel cried frantically.  
  
"The exams aren't going to wait!" Liz said. "Now let's go!"  
  
The exam went all right, Liz thought. There might have been one question she doubted her answer on, but other than that, everything was fine.  
  
"I did horrible," Rachel moaned as they left.  
  
"You should've studied more," Liz said.  
  
"Of course you're going to say that. You probably got top marks," Michael said.  
  
Their last exam was Defense Against the Dark Arts. They walked into the classroom, but Professor Garb was not there. Instead, a dumpy sort of woman stood behind his desk.  
  
"My name is Professor Pryatt. I am substituting for Professor Garb."  
  
"Where is he?" asked Robert Sorenson.  
  
"He's gone. Disappeared. Now, you must take your exam."  
  
"He's gone?" Liz asked in disbelief.  
  
"But he was supposed to be solving this!" Michael said much too loudly.  
  
"Please be silent. You have an exam to take."  
  
Liz thought it went well. Of course, she was the only one. Rachel and many of the others left the classroom amid groaning.  
  
"The exam wasn't the important thing," Liz said. Rachel stopped dead, looking surprised that Liz would think anything more important than an exam. "Didn't you hear Professor Pryatt? Professor Garb is gone."  
  
"No one cares. He's a git."  
  
"I know no one cares, but it's a piece to this mystery. He might have found out something that the kidnapper didn't want him to know.  
  
"What could he have found out? He wasn't trying; everyone knows he wasn't."  
  
"It's got to be by accident, then. I wonder what it was."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Michael asked, catching up to them.  
  
"Nothing," Liz said. "Well, exams are finished."  
  
"Yeah, and summer's almost here," Rachel said joyously.  
  
Michael looked down. Then he spoke up. "I don't want to leave if Jessica isn't found yet." It was the first time he had spoken of his sister's disappearance. "Have you figured out what that note meant yet?"  
  
"I thought you said it was rubbish."  
  
"Well, maybe it is. Maybe it isn't. This whole thing is making my mind go backwards!"  
  
Liz blinked. "Backwards?" She blinked again. "Backwards!" She fished the slip of paper out of her pocket. "Maybe it's something backwards!" They crowded around her to read it backwards.  
  
"'On the full moon as the sixth month dies, the Dragon will take Hogwarts by surprise. One boy knows of him, he's been told lies. Once Dragon has him, he'll take to the skies.'"  
  
"So...what does that mean?" Michael asked.  
  
"Well, there's someone called Dragon involved," Rachel said. "And someone knows about him."  
  
"'On the full moon as the sixth month dies,'" Liz read. "That's June."  
  
"When's the full moon?" asked Rachel.  
  
"Tonight," Liz replied.  
  
There was a fearful pause. "What are we going to do?" Michael said.  
  
"What can we do?" Rachel asked.  
  
"Wait," Liz said. "Just wait."  
  
They agreed not to sleep that night. Michael left Rachel and Liz, telling them to come get him if anything was to happen. The two girls trudged up the stairs, worried about what the night might bring.  
  
At midnight, Liz was getting sleepy. Her eyelids were weights, bringing themselves down. She'd just rest her eyes for a minute...it would be all right...  
  
She was standing outside of Hagrid's cabin, looking through a window. Chris was inside, talking to a hooded figure. Suddenly, the figure transformed into a dragon, grabbed Chris around the waist with its foot-long claws, and took off through the window, over Liz's head, and toward the moon.  
  
Liz woke up covered in cold sweat. Her pillow was damp with perspiration. But none of that mattered. She knew what the note meant.  
  
"Rachel!" she hissed, jumping out of bed. Rachel had fallen asleep, too. "Rachel! Get up! I know what it means!"  
  
"What?" Rachel moaned groggily.  
  
"The strange figure! Chris knows about him! He's going to get him tonight!"  
  
Rachel hopped out of bed and pulled on her robes. The two of them rushed down the stairs and then up to Michael's dorm. "Michael!" Liz cried.  
  
"What's happened?" he answered, following them. He already had his robes on. Liz explained to him what the matter was as they rushed out of the portrait hole and out of the castle toward Hagrid's cabin.  
  
"Hagrid! Chris!" Liz screamed, pounding at the door. Hagrid answered, sleep in his eyes.  
  
"What is it? Do you three have any idea what time it is?"  
  
"Hagrid, where's Chris?" Liz demanded.  
  
"He's in his bed, sleepin'. Chris!" Hagrid called. "Chris! Come here!"  
  
There was no answer. Hagrid went to the back to get him and returned, pale. "He's not there."  
  
A piercing scream echoed through the night and a burst of light erupted from the windows. Liz, Rachel, and Michael ran like lightning. Inside, people were panicking.  
  
"Where? What happened? What happened?" Liz yelled to the frantic students. Not one person paid any attention. There was a stampede to escape through the front doors of the castle. "Where is he?" Liz screamed.  
  
"McGonagall's office," said a boy Liz recognized as Francis, Cynthia Moyler's boyfriend. He ran past her with the rest.  
  
"Let's go," Liz said.  
  
"Where?" Rachel asked.  
  
"McGonagall's office. That's where he is."  
  
They charged through the stream of people racing down the stairs. When they reached the headmistress's office, Liz shushed them. "Listen."  
  
"Go. Now!" McGonagall's voice commanded.  
  
"You are not the master. I think it's been switched," replied a cold, drawling voice.  
  
"Release those children this instant," said McGonagall.  
  
"Why should I? You're obviously not going to stop me. On the contrary, I'm going to stop you. Crucio!"  
  
McGonagall shrieked. Michael cringed beside Liz. "We've got to do something," Rachel whispered.  
  
All noise ceased, except for McGonagall panting. "I believe you have visitors, Headmistress." Loud footsteps pounded on the floor, and the door they were leaning on was flung open. They found themselves sprawled out on the floor at a man's, the Dragon's, feet. They looked up.  
  
"You," the man said, staring at Liz. He had a pale, pointed face and blonde hair so striking it was almost white. He had hatred etched in every line of his face. "You...I had word you weren't to be found. I thought you were dead."  
  
Liz blanched. McGonagall tried to stand up, but the Dragon turned on her and said, "Crucio!" again. She writhed under the fierce red light. Liz set her face, concentrated, and yelled, "Disapparatus!" McGonagall was gone.  
  
"How does someone like you know the Disappearing Charm?" the Dragon roared. "Disapparatus!" he yelled, pointing his wand at Michael and holding up a glass orb. Michael was gone. Liz looked closely at the orb and saw that there were people in there. All the students who had disappeared and some he had caught on the way up were trapped. Michael appeared in there.  
  
"Help!" his miniscule voice cried.  
  
"Disapparatus!" the Dragon yelled. Rachel disappeared, too.  
  
"Rachel! Michael! Chris! Can you hear me?" Liz cried. Tiny squeaky voices answered, none too distinctly.  
  
"I need them," the Dragon bellowed, so that everything in the room trembled. "I shall be immortal like my master, the Dark Lord. But I shall be a new Dark Lord, greater and more terrible than he, and all shall fear," (his voice dropped to a deadly hiss) "the Dragon. The great and immortal Dragon."  
  
Liz reacted in his moment of boastful pride with a spell she had only read about. "Accio!" she yelled, catching the orb in her outstretched palm. He looked at her, bewildered. She looked wildly around, finally seeing a small box on McGonagall's desk. She seized it, yelled, "Disapparatus!" and pointed at the Dragon. He was in the box.  
  
For a moment, Liz stood still. She gingerly lifted the lid and peeked inside. There was the Dragon. He was tiny. He was trapped. She had done it. She had caught the culprit!  
  
She took up the orb in her hand, weighing it and considering. Would smashing it break spell? "Well, it's worth a try," she muttered to herself. Liz dropped it. Instantly the room was filled with dazed but free and normal-sized students.  
  
"You did it!" Michael said, running up and hugging Liz. Rachel and Chris joined in. Slowly the students began to stand and mutter amongst themselves. Liz cleared her throat.  
  
"Everybody, please go to the hospital wing," she announced. "Just to be safe." Everyone made his or her way out.  
  
"Do you have the box he's in?" Chris asked.  
  
Liz picked it up. "Come on, McGonagall is in Hagrid's cabin. Let's go show her."  
  
They left the office and then the castle, and began the long trek across the grounds. Liz's palms were sweaty with excitement. So sweaty, in fact, that she dropped the Dragon's prison and the lid popped open. She quickly picked it back up.  
  
"Hagrid!" Chris called, opening the door. "Hagrid, we're back! We caught the one who did it!"  
  
Hagrid came up to them. "What's goin' on? First, Chris is gone, then you three rush off ter the castle of lights, and then McGonagall appears in my cabin."  
  
"It's all better," Liz said. "Where's McGonagall?"  
  
Hagrid led them to where McGonagall lay on the couch. "McGonagall, I've got him," Liz said, opening the box.  
  
McGonagall looked inside, and then back up at Liz. "Elizabeth, this box is empty."  
  
"What? No, it can't be—oh, no!" Liz cried. A shout came from the direction of the window, and the four children and Hagrid ran outside to see what was the matter. The dragon, on a silver broomstick, was flying away.  
  
"Fool, stupid child! Never drop your foe or leave him with a wand!" he yelled down at Liz. "You may have foiled this plan, but I'll be back!"  
  
With a burst of courage Liz never knew she had, she yelled, "And I'll be waiting!" as he flew off toward the moon, out of sight. He was gone.  
  
The courageous energy left Liz and she hung her head. "He got away," she murmured. "I had him and I let him get away."  
  
"You tried as hard as you possibly could, Liz," Michael said, coming up behind her. "It isn't your fault."  
  
"How is it not my fault? I dropped the box!"  
  
"It was an accident," Rachel agreed. "It slipped. In fact, I bet the Dragon used magic to make the box slip out of your hands."  
  
"Yeh did the best yeh could, Liz," Hagrid said. Chris nodded.  
  
"I believe it is time to go back up to the castle and take care of the havoc that has been wreaked," Professor McGonagall said, standing up and wincing.  
  
Liz said, "Are you sure you'll be all right, Professor?"  
  
"Yes," McGonagall said determinedly. "Hagrid, Chris, if you would please join us." 


	13. In the End

Chapter 13 – In the End  
  
"Attention!" Professor McGonagall called, clapping her hands. All the students were seated in the Great Hall. Michael and Jessica were up at the High Table with their mother, and Liz could see Cynthia and Francis over at the Ravenclaw table.  
  
"Attention!" the headmistress called again. "I suppose you're all wondering what has been going on." A murmur of agreement swept across the Great Hall. "The culprit has been revealed to be someone calling himself the Dragon. Unfortunately, he escaped. We must thank Elizabeth Potter for her outstanding efforts to stop him, and succeed she did."  
  
The Gryffindor table began to applaud, among them Allison Kennedy and Lauren Thomas. The rest of the student population joined in, except for many of the Slytherins, among them Winnie Chen. Liz grinned as Michael and Rachel applauded the loudest.  
  
Exam results were given to the first-years at the end-of-year feast. "Do they really have to ruin a good feast like this?" Michael groaned.  
  
Liz had gotten perfect scores on everything, including Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts. This reminded her of something. "Michael, Rachel," she said, "what ever happened to Professor Garb? He wasn't in the Dragon's orb. Where did he go?"  
  
"He quit," Professor McGonagall said, over their heads. They turned to face her.  
  
"He quit?" Liz replied incredulously.  
  
"He resigned the day Jessica disappeared. Said the job was getting too dangerous. He requested that I say he had gone missing."  
  
"What a git," Rachel said. "Oh, sorry, Professor."  
  
But Professor McGonagall just smiled, gave a slight nod, and moved on. People were excited to go home for the summer holidays, but Liz was sure her vacation would be nothing to envy. Emma would be at her worst, having been reminded of life as an only child over the school year. She would owl Rachel, Michael, and Chris over the summer to keep her spirits up.  
  
Morning brought the Hogwarts Express. Students piled inside, eager for the warm weather. Liz, Rachel, and Michael waved goodbye to Chris (he stayed with Hagrid all year round), boarded the scarlet steam engine, and found a compartment. Jessica Weasley joined them.  
  
As the train began to move, Rachel, Michael, and Jessica told Liz what it was like in the glass orb. Crowded was the word that cropped up most often. Then Winnie Chen and her friend Patsy Casarez barged in.  
  
"I bet you think you're really something, huh, Liz?" Winnie sneered. "You caught a bad guy. Big deal. You still let him get away."  
  
"And I bet you were behind him one hundred percent, weren't you?" Michael demanded.  
  
"You're either wrong or right, Weasley," Winnie said. "See you in September."  
  
The compartment door slammed behind her. Liz seethed. How could Winnie be so mean?  
  
She sat back down and pulled out of her pocket her birthday letter from her mother. She would prove her mother was alive, of that she was sure. Then she could apologize to Michael and Rachel for hiding the truth. But for now, she'd keep her secret.  
  
The train halted at Platform 9 ¾. Rachel, Michael, and Jessica waved goodbye and went to go find their parents Liz spotted Mr. and Mrs. Smith and Emma. Emma looked highly disgruntled to be surrounded by freaks. Liz ran up to them.  
  
"Did you have a good year?" Mr. Smith asked.  
  
"Did anything exciting happen?" Mrs. Smith inquired.  
  
"Except meeting more freaks," Emma muttered.  
  
Liz looked at each of them in turn. "Not really. No, nothing exciting happened at all." She grinned and led them through the barrier back to the Muggle world.  
  
A/N: Yup, that's it, it's over! Sequel coming soon, entitled: The Next Generation 2: Secrets of the Mind. :D Thanks for reading! 


End file.
